56-WOMA 
NOVeL'BY 


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Clara  Lottiee  -ISurnbnm. 


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HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  &  CO. 
BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK. 


A   NOVEL 


BY 


CLARA    LOUISE   BURNHAM 


BOSTON  AND   NEW  YORK 

HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND   COMPANY 

(£be  fiitcrssibe  £«£?>  Cambri&se 

1895 


Copyright,  1895, 
BY  CLAEA  LOUISE  BURNHAM. 

All  rights  reserved. 


The  Riverside  Press,  Cambridge,  Mass.,  U.  S.  A. 
Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  H.  O.  Houghton  &  Co. 


CONTENTS. 


I.  WITH  THE  FIRST  SNOW 1 

II.  MARGUERITE 17 

III.  KATHERINE'S  FIRST  LESSON      ....  33 

IV.  KATHERINE'S  MISSTEP 48 

V.  FIRESIDE  CONFIDENCES 63 

VI.  A  PROFESSIONAL  VISIT 75 

VII.  MILLINER  AND  MEDICO       .....  90 

VIII.  THE  ATHLETIC  CLUB 103 

IX.  AN  AVERTED  DANGER 117 

X.  MARGUERITE  CONSULTS  THE  ORACLE     .        .  131 

XI.  THE  Am  SOCIETY 145 

XII.  TRANSITION 161 

XIII.  THE  ATHLETIC  CLUB  BALL       .        .        .        .173 

XIV.  THE  SPELL  OF  THE  WALTZ  ....  189 
XV.  AFTERTHOUGHTS 208 

XVI.  SPRINGTIME      .......  222 

XVII.  POKONET     .        . 236 

XVIII.  MATERNAL  ANXIETIES    .        .        ...        .  250 

XIX.  THE  BUOYS .268 

XX.  A  REPENTANT  CULPRIT          ....  285 

XXI.  A  SIREN 303 

XXII.  "SWEETS  AND  SOURS" 315 

XXIII.  THE  BONFIRE 332 

XXIV.  THE  MARY  LEDDY 349 

XXV.  THE  EVE  OF  DEPARTURE 370 

XXVI.  THE  RECEPTION 391 

XXVII.  LA  GRIPPE'S  VICTIM 406 

XXVIII.  IN  WOODROW  PARK                ....  421 


22295S9 


THE  WISE  WOMAN. 


CHAPTER   I. 

WITH    THE    FIRST    SNOW. 

"Is  your  pain  any  better?"  asked  Silas  Hodg- 
son, putting  his  gray  head  and  his  good-natured 
face  in  at  his  wife's  bedroom  door.  The  after- 
noon had  seemed  very  long  to  him.  He  spoke 
doubtfully  and  stroked  his  rough  beard.  That 
short  beard  was  a  great  comfort  to  the  old  man 
in  times  of  apprehension  like  the  present.  He 
always  grasped  it  when  called  upon  to  solve  a 
problem,  or  when  in  need  of  moral  support. 
"I  thought  I  heard  ye  stirrin',"  he  continued 
gently  and  tentatively  after  a  pause.  It  seemed 
to  him  many  hours  that  he  had  debarred  himself 
from  speech. 

There  came  an  inarticulate  murmur  from  the 
recumbent  woman  on  the  bed,  who  lay  with  her 
back  toward  him. 

"A  little,  did  ye  say?"  He  turned  his  head 
sideways  to  catch  any  further  response,  and,  as 
none  came,  a  shade  of  disappointment  clouded  the 
kind,  simple  face.  "Well,  let  me  know  if  I  can 


2  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

do  anything  for  ye,  Ma,"  and  he  left  the  room  and 
returned  to  the  sitting-room  window,  from  which 
he  had  been  listlessly  gazing  for  ten  minutes  pre- 
vious to  making  his  futile  appeal. 

They  lived  alone  in  the  old  farmhouse,  this 
couple.  Only  one  child  had  been  given  to  them, 
and  the  three  months  of  her  little  life  had  already 
retreated  twenty  years  into  the  background  of 
their  experience;  yet  for  the  sweet  sake  of  that 
tiny  baby  the  parents  were  "Ma"  and  "Pa"  to 
each  other  to-day. 

The  old  man  glanced  at  the  loud-ticking  clock, 
and  sighed  unconsciously.  The  tortoise-shell  cat, 
which  had  been  asleep  before  the  glowing  fire  in 
the  Franklin  stove,  stretched  her  elastic  body  to  a 
preternatural  length,  and  then  approached  her 
master  with  deliberate  dignity  and  leaped  to  the 
window-sill,  where  she  arched  her  back  beneath 
his  hand  as  she,  too,  gazed  forth  on  the  country- 
side. 

"I  do  believe  it's  begun  to  snow,  Tab,"  ob- 
served the  sociable  man,  glad  of  an  excuse  to 
speak  again.  Then  he  turned  his  face  toward  the 
half -open  door  of  the  bedroom.  "It's  snowin', 
Ma,"  he  announced  timidly,  yet  with  some  hope- 
fulness. He  could  not  resist  trying  the  effect  of 
this  announcement  of  the  first  snow  of  the  season. 
Perhaps  it  might  exorcise  the  spirit  of  pain.  No 
response  from  the  bedroom. 

"Not  spittin',  ye  know;  actually  snowin',"  he 
added,  in  the  same  raised  tone. 


WITH   THE    FIRST   SNOW.  3 

This  time  he  did  not  strain  his  ears  in  vain  for 
an  answer.  It  came  in  somewhat  thick  but  de- 
cided accents. 

"I  want  you  should  leave  me  alone,  Pa." 

An  abashed  look  crept  over  the  man's  weather- 
beaten  face.  He  grasped  his  beard,  and  whistled 
iiiaudibly  as  he  turned  quickly  back,  and  again 
gave  his  attention  to  the  wide,  level,  russet  fields 
stretching  away  to  where  the  sand  dunes  hid  the 
sea. 

Then  for  a  while  his  wife  slept,  and  waking, 
much  relieved,  lamented  her  own  severity. 
"  'T  won't  do  to  question  the  dispensations  o' 
Providence,"  she  groaned;  "but  I  do  wish  men 
could  knit,  or  make  crazy-quilts,  or  amuse  them- 
selves some  way,  come  fall  weather."  Then 
aloud,  faintly:  "Pa." 

"Yes,  Ma,"  meekly. 

"Couldn't  you  whittle  out  some  pegs  for  these 
windows?  They  made  a  racket  all  night." 

"I  did  that  this  mornin'."  Then,  once  more 
encouraged,  "It's  snowin'  righ'  down,  Ma." 

Mrs.  Hodgson  rose  from  her  bed  and  appeared, 
still  pale,  in  the  doorway,  fastening  the  small 
three-cornered  cap  she  wore. 

"Why,  so  'tis,"  she  responded,  looking  out  on 
the  light  whirling  flakes.  "Well,  it's  time  for 
it." 

"Set  down  here  in  the  big  chair  and  let  me  get 
ye  a  cup  o'  tea,"  said  the  relieved  husband,  beam- 
ing with  contentment.  "It's  jest  all  ye  need 
now  to  set  ye  up." 


4  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"I  guess  'tis,"  she  answered,  "but  I'd  better 
make  it  myself." 

"No,  you  won't.  You  ain't  fit  to.  It 's  a  half 
hour  yet  to  supper-time.  Set  still;"  and  the  old 
man  moved  with  alacrity  into  the  kitchen,  from 
which  immediately  began  to  proceed  a  series  of 
noises  which  stirred  Mrs.  Hodgson's  housewifely 
soul  with  ever-increasing  apprehension. 

"The  new  kettle  's  the  one  you  better  use,"  she 
suggested,  sitting  forward  in  her  chair  and  listen- 
ing alertly,  while  smothered  objurgations  from  the 
kitchen  followed  each  fresh  clatter. 

"Silas,  you  better  let  me  "  —  she  began  at  last. 

"There  now,  I  'm  all  right,"  declared  her  in- 
visible spouse  manfully.  "I  know  a  thing  or 
two,  let  me  tell  ye.  When  I  make  a  cup  o'  tea 
I  don't  try  to  git  a  whole  gallon  o'  water  to  bile. 
I  take  jest  sich  a  quantity  and  it 's  ready  on 
time."  His  genial  face  here  appeared  as  he 
moved  to  the  china  closet  and  brought  forth  a  cup 
and  saucer. 

"Not  that  one,  Pa,"  pleaded  his  wife.  "I'd 
jest  as  soon  have  a  common  one." 

"No,  ma'am.  The  best  ain't  any  too  good  for 
you,"  returned  the  other,  beaming,  as  he  bore  off 
the  dainty  old  cup  in  triumph.  "When  we  set 
out  to  be  stylish  we  know  how  to  do  it,  I  hope." 

He  disappeared,  and  it  required  all  the  good- 
ness of  Mrs.  Hodgson's  heart  to  deter  her  from 
following  him.  She  sat  nearer  than  ever  to  the 
edge  of  her  chair,  and  her  pulses  beat  nervously 


WITH   THE   FIRST   SNOW.  5 

in  the  silence  that  followed.  It  was  soon  ended 
by  an  ominous  sharp  crash  in  the  kitchen,  and 
simultaneously  a  ring  at  the  front  doorbell  pealed 
through  the  house. 

"Silas  Hodgson,  you  hain't  broken  that  cup!  " 
Acute  dismay  paralyzed  the  speaker  and  effectually 
prevented  her  from  rising. 

"All  to  flinders,  Ma,"  was  the  slow,  dejected 
response.     "It  jest  slipped  away  from  me  like  — 
likelightnin'"- 

"I  didn't  want  you  should  take  it,"  groaned  his 
wife,  at  last  appearing  on  the  scene  where  the  old 
man  was  kneeling  on  the  hearth,  brushing  the 
delicate  fragments  into  one  hand  with  the  big,  stiff 
fingers  of  the  other. 

"There  goes  that  bell  again!"  he  exclaimed 
with  alacrity.  "I'll  jest  step  out  and  see  who 
't  is  in  all  this  storm.  They  better  stayed  to  home, 
/  think;"  and,  thanking  Fate  for  a  diversion,  he 
rose  from  his  kneeling  posture,  dropped  the  flecks 
of  china  upon  the  edge  of  the  sink,  and  hurried 
away  through  the  hall.  Opening  the  house  door 
he  admitted  a  blast  of  November  wind,  and  saw 
a  young  woman  waiting  on  the  step,  the  shoulders 
of  her  fashionable  jacket  already  white  with  snow, 
and  her  dark  eyes  brightening  with  satisfaction  at 
sight  of  him. 

"How  do  you  do?"  she  said  cheerily,  putting 
out  her  neatly  gloved  hand.  Mr.  Hodgson  re- 
garded her  uncomprehendingly,  and  returned  the 
greeting  mechanically.  "I  began  to  be  so  afraid 


6  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

there  might  be  no  one  at  home.  It  would  have 
served  me  right,  of  course,"  she  added  gayly, 
"but  it  would  have  been  awkward."  She  turned 
toward  a  depot-carriage  waiting  at  the  gate. 
"You  can  go,"  she  said  with  a  nod  to  the 
driver. 

Tardy  but  pleased  recognition  stole  over  the 
host's  face.  "Hoh!  If  't  ain't  Kitty  Ormond!  " 
he  ejaculated.  "Well,  where 'd  you  snow  down 
from?  Right  in  the  nick  o'  time,  too,"  added  the 
old  man  in  confidential  tones,  as  he  drew  her  in- 
side and  closed  the  door  behind  her.  "Jest  had 
an  accident  here.  I  've  busted  one  o'  Grandma 
Fletcher's  cups.  Triflin',  good-for-nothin'  things 
they  be.  No  more  substance  to  'em  than  bubbles. 
Doshed  fool  I  was  to  touch  it.  It 's  worked  Ma 
all  up.  You  fix  it,  Kitty,  like  a  good  child. 
Gimme  your  bag.  P'raps  you  might 's  well  go  in 
first." 

Katherine  Ormond  had  listened  to  the  opening 
of  this  confession  with  a  sober  countenance.  She 
had  large  brown  eyes  placed  well  apart  under 
curving  eyebrows  which,  with  the  firm,  small 
mouth  and  the  opaque  whiteness  of  her  fine  skin, 
gave  her  face  a  very  serious  expression.  By  the 
time  the  old  man  had  finished,  emphasizing  his 
last  remark  with  a  gently  suggestive  shove,  the 
girl's  eyes  had  nearly  disappeared  between  their 
lashes,  showing  only  a  narrow  space  of  dancing 
light;  the  delicate  lips  had  broadened  into  an 
appreciative  smile,  and  it  was  the  merriest  face 


WITH    THE   FIRST    SNOW.  1 

imaginable  that  appeared  in  Mrs.  Hodgson's  sit- 
ting-room just  as  that  lady  emerged  disconsolate 
from  the  kitchen  door. 

The  girl  walked  straight  up  to  her  hostess,  who 
stared  into  the  smiling  face,  then  retreated  a  step 
in  her  surprise. 

"Why  —  why  "  —  she  stammered.  "  'T  ain't 
Kitty !  Turn  'round  and  let  me  get  the  light  on 
you.  Is  it  really  you,  child?  What  does  this 
mean?  " 

"You  know  you  said  I  might,  Mrs.  Hodgson. 
You  said  I  might,  any  time."  The  girl  put  her 
hand  on  the  other's  shoulder  and  kissed  her. 

The  hostess  began  fumbling  at  the  fastenings 
of  her  guest's  jacket,  looking  her  pleasure,  and 
expressing  it  somewhat  incoherently.  Her  hus- 
band, reconnoitring  through  the  crack  of  the  hall 
door,  and  observing  that  there  was  no  room  at 
present  in  the  mental  atmosphere  for  a  memory  of 
mishaps,  followed  the  social  bent  of  his  nature, 
and  entered  the  room. 

"Wa'n't  a  kittiwake  the  last  bird  you  expected 
to  see  fly  into  the  house  to-day,  Ma? "  he  in- 
quired, with  ingratiating  cheerfulness.  "She 
come  right  in  on  that  last  gust." 

"And  oh,  it  seems  so  nice  to  be  here!"  said 
the  girl  with  enthusiasm.  "I  didn't  surprise  you 
too  much,  did  I,  Mrs.  Hodgson?  It  is  your 
own  fault  if  I  did.  You  remember  when  I  was 
here  last?  " 

"Yes,  I  recollect,  but  it's  goin'  on  two  years, 


8  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

Kitty.  Here,  Pa,  take  her  things  into  the  bed- 
room. Are  your  feet  wet,  dear?" 

"  No ;  I  'm  all  right.  Let  me  sit  right  down 
here  beside  you  in  front  of  this  lovely  blaze,  and 
explain  myself.  It  can  be  done  briefly.  You 
know  when  I  was  here  last  I  had  written  for  per- 
mission to  spend  a  few  days  with  you,  and  when 
I  went  away  after  the  visit,  you  told  me  to  come 
thereafter  any  time  I  felt  like  it  without  troubling 
myself  to  write  you,  because  this  was  one  of  my 
homes.  Have  you  forgotten  ?" 

Mrs.  Hodgson  smiled  into  the  coaxing  face. 
"No,  indeed." 

"Well,  I  didn't  expect  to  obey  you  literally. 
I  meant  at  least  to  give  you  warning  when  the  fit 
next  seized  me;  but  circumstances,  or  perhaps  I 
ought  to  be  honest  and  say  my  own  impatience, 
didn't  give  me  time.  I  never  thought  of  coming 
until  last  night,  and  after  that  I  couldn't  wait. 
I  knew  if  worse  came  to  worst,  there  was  a  tav- 
ern in  Pokonet.  Shall  I  go  there  now?"  The 
speaker  glanced  up  with  the  half -loving,  half -saucy 
expression  which  had  long  been  familiar  to  her 
hostess. 

"You  look  this  minute  just  as  you  used  to  when 
you  was  five  years  old,"  said  Mrs.  Hodgson, 
smoothing  the  girl's  fine  hand,  and  becoming  so 
conscious  of  the  roughness  of  her  own  in  the  move- 
ment that  she  instantly  ceased  the  caress.  "You 
can  stay  here,"  she  finished,  leaning  back  in  her 
seat. 


WITH    THE    FlftST   SNOU'.  9 

"We  used  to  have  pretty  good  times,  hey?" 
suggested  Mr.  Hodgson,  drawing  up  a  chair  for 
himself  on  the  guest's  other  side. 

"Good  times!"  she  repeated  warmly.  "There 
never  were  such  good  times.  Poor  little  children 
who  don't  spend  their  summers  at  Pokonet! 
What  do  they  know  of  bliss?  "  The  girl  leaned 
her  chin  on  her  hand  and  gazed  at  the  red  coals. 
"I  often  wonder,  Mr.  Hodgson,  how  it  was  you 
could  spare  so  much  time  to  us  children  as  you 
used  to." 

The  old  man  thought  his  wife  was  going  to 
speak.  They  had  not  always  agreed  about  what 
proportion  of  a  summer  day  should  be  given  to 
play ;  so  he  broke  in  hurriedly :  "  Oh,  I  doniio  as 
I  gave  you  so  very  much  time." 

The  girl  went  on:  "What  with  boating,  and 
crabbing,  and  fishing,  and  wading  in  the  pond,  or 
going  into  the  surf,  I  don't  think  there  was  a  man 
on  Long  Island  so  hard-worked  as  you." 

Silas  Hodgson  sent  a  furtive  look  toward  his 
wife. 

She  smiled.  "It  was  just  the  sort  of  work  Pa 
liked,"  she  remarked. 

"Then  we  would  come  in,"  continued  Miss  Or- 
mond  dreamily,  "and  eat  your  good  dinners  and 
suppers,  and  they  were  the  best  in  the  world. 
And  oh,  why  did  we  grow  up !  "  she  finished  ex- 
pressively. 

"I'm  free  to  say  I've  missed  you,"  returned 
Mrs.  Hodgson.  "  You  three  children  got  to  seemin' 


10  .  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

as  if  you  belonged  to  us,  comin'  so  steady  every 
summer  from  the  time  you  was  babies." 

"Yes,"  the  girl  sighed;  "I  was  sorry  enough 
when  it  seemed  best  for  us  to  begin  to  step  out  of 
the  beaten  track." 

"Hope  you  enjoyed  yourself  this  summer  past, 
Kitty,"  said  her  host,  regarding  her  affection- 
ately. 

"Yes,  we  had  a  gay  season,  both  at  the  sea  and 
at  the  mountains.  Then  afterward,  Madeline  and 
Gilbert  and  I  went  to  a  house  party  at  Lenox. 
The  fact  is,  I  'in  tired.  I  don't  believe  I  was 
intended  for  a  gay  life.  .  When  we  settled  down 
at  home  this  fall,  I  found  that  everything  seemed 
more  or  less  of  a  burden,  and  I  was  listless,  and 
didn't  know  what  I  wanted,  when  all  of  a  sudden 
I  waked  up  to  the  fact  that  I  hadn't  had  any 
Pokonet.  Why,  of  course  that  explained  every- 
thing. So  here  I  am." 

"And  now  we're  starvin'  you,  dearie!"  ex- 
claimed Mrs.  Hodgson.  "It's  just  supper -time. 
I  have  n't  been  first-rate  to-day,  and  " 

"And  so  Mr.  Hodgson  and  I  are  going  to  get 
supper,"  said  the  girl,  suddenly  rising  decidedly. 

"No,  no,"  protested  her  hostess,  pushing  her 
chair  back.  "What  do  you  think,  Kitty;  just 
before  you  came  in  Pa  'd  broke  one  o'  the  Fletcher 
cups !  "  The  statement  was  made  despairingly 
and  with  symptoms  of  tears. 

"Now  Ma,  don't  ye  take  on  about  that,"  coaxed 
her  husband,  made  courageous  by  the  guest's 


WITH    THE   FIRST   SNOW.  11 

presence.  "I  promise  not  to  touch  a  thing  ye 
could  bust  with  the  hammer.  I  '11  only  wait  on 
Kitty.  She  knows  where  everything  is ;  don't  ye, 
Kittiwake?" 

His  meek  eagerness  and  Miss  Ormond's  cheer- 
ful reassurances  prevailed  upon  Mrs.  Hodgson, 
who  sat  back  in  her  chair  and  watched  the  lively 
preparations  for  tea  with  placid  approval. 

"Of  course  mother  and  Madeline  sent  their 
love,"  said  Katherine,  when  at  last  they  were 
seated  at  table. 

"And  Gilly,"  said  the  old  man,  as  he  passed 
his  guest  some  cold  meat.  "How's  Gilly?  He 
was  a  plucky  little  chap.  I  s'pose  I  wouldn't 
hardly  know  him  now." 

Miss  Orniond  laughed.  "How  comical  it  sounds 
to  hear  that  name  again,  and  how  cross  it  made 
him  when  we  first  called  him  by  it;  but  he  was  a 
gilly  sometimes,  and  truth  compelled.  No,  I 
don't  believe  you  would  know  him,"  she  added. 
"He  hasn't  been  to  Pokonet  since  he  entered  col- 
lege, and  he  is  —  he  has  changed  a  good  deal." 

"The  children  will  grow  up,"  remarked  Mrs. 
Hodgson.  "Maidie  shot  from  a  child  into  a 
young  lady  the  suddenest  I  ever  saw." 

"That  Maidie  was  always  a  smart  little  jade," 
put  in  her  husband,  with  an  admiring,  reminiscent 
smile. 

"I  s'pose  she's  a  regular  grown-up  woman 
now,"  continued  his  wife.  "You  know  we  had 
her  down  here  awhile  summer  before  last." 


12  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Yes;  it  isn't  easy  to  wean  us  entirely  from 
Pokonet;  but  I  owe  Madeline  a  grudge,  for  I 
think  it  is  her  fault  after  all  that  we  are  n't  still 
coming  here  every  summer  in  the  good  old  way. 
She  has  grown  popular  in  a  certain  set,  who  have 
dragged  us  off  in  search  of  interests  that  don't 
interest  —  some  of  us.  That  is,  not  so  much  as 
they  do  her." 

"Ah,  my  dear,"  Mrs.  Hodgson  patted  the  girl's 
hand,  "you  have  changed  least  of  all.  Ain't  she 
just  the  same,  Pa?  " 

"Yes;  I  can  see  her  now,  flyin'  down  the  sands 
with  her  little  gray  and  white  gown  and  her  black 
shoes,  for  all  the  world  like  a  kittiwake;  and  a 
good  sight  she  was  always  for  these  eyes;  and  a 
good  sight  she  is  yet.  Glad  ye  come,  Kitty." 

"So  am  I,"  she  answered  happily;  "but  the 
people  at  home  were  surprised  enough  when  I 
announced  my  intention.  I  told  them  I  could 
come  better  now  than  when  we  got  deeper  into 
work  and  play,  and  off  I  started.  I  felt  a  little 
guilty,  for  the  sky  looked  like  a  storm;  but  I 
thought  I  would  run  a  race  with  the  snow.  Per- 
haps I  should  get  here  first;  but  no,  indeed;  it 
caught  me  on  the  road.  How  it  whirls  down  now! 
What  fun  to  be  cozily  shut  in  with  you !  You  see 
you  don't  know  what  a  wearing  thing  it  is  to  be 
a  popular,  fashionable  girl's  sister!"  she  added, 
with  mock  seriousness. 

"Is  Maidie  more  popular  'n  you  be,  Kitty?" 
asked  Mr.  Hodgson,  curiously. 


WITH    TJIK    FIRST   SNOW.  13 

"She  ain't  better  lookin',"  observed  his  wife  in 
an  impartial  tone,  which  caused  a  new  disappear- 
ance of  her  guest's  eyes  behind  their  lashes. 

"Oh!"  she  ejaculated,  with  a  soft,  high  little 
cry,  making  a  gesture  of  dismay.  "  I  am  only  a 
faint  shadow  of  Madeline.  Why,  indeed,  Mrs. 
Hodgson,"  added  the  girl,  with  honest  heartiness 
and  wide-open  eyes,  "Madeline  is  the  most  beau- 
tiful girl  I  ever  saw." 

"You  don't  say,"  said  Mr.  Hodgson. 

"I  want  to  know,"  remarked  his  wife. 

"Yes,  indeed;  it  isn't  the  least  wonder  that 
people  want  to  see  her  about,  and  that  she  has 
three  partners  to  another  girl's  one,  and  all  the 
rest  of  it;  but  the  sister  of  a  belle  doesn't  always 
walk  in  a  path  of  roses.  Another  cup  of  tea, 
please,  dear  Mrs.  Hodgson.  Modesty  forbids  me 
to  praise  it  as  it  deserves,  but  actions  speak  louder 
than  words.  You  see,  there  are  the  lovers ;  and  I 
don't  know  why,  but  they  gravitate  to  me  just  as 
naturally  "  — 

"Great  fools  if  they  didn't,"  remarked  Silas 
Hodgson;  "but  look  out,  Kitty.  Ye 're  young- 
yet.  It 's  dreadful  easy  to  make  a  mistake." 

The  girl's  laugh  rang  out  spontaneously.  "Not 
my  lovers.  Oh,  no.  Madeline's.  Some  of  them 
are  moths  who  refrain  by  reason  of  various  mo- 
tives from  really  getting  into  the  candle  flame, 
but  a  few  have  rushed  upon  their  fate,  and  then, 
when  they  find  themselves  hurt,  they  invariably 
turn  to  me  to  be  comforted." 


14  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"That's  a  good  mission,  ruy  child,"  said  Mrs. 
Hodgson  seriously,  "to  bind  up  the  broken- 
hearted." 

"I  don't  like  it  at  all,"  protested  her  guest. 
"You  have  no  idea  how  embarrassing  it  is  some- 
times. The  last  victim  fell  at  Lenox  a  few  weeks 
ago,  and  yesterday,  right  at  home  in  Montaigne, 
I  had  the  bad  luck  to  meet  him  on  a  street  corner, 
and  he  would  stop  and  talk  about  Madeline,  and 
look  white,  and  I  had  to  beat  about  and  try  to 
think  of  something  consoling  to  suggest,  and 
couldn't  at  all.  I  don't  know  what  I  did  say  at 
last,  but  I  made  up  my  mind  to  come  to  Pokonet 
right  away.  I  knew  there  was  n't  anybody  here 
whom  Madeline  had  refused." 

Mr.  Hodgson  continued  eating  his  supper  in- 
dustriously. 

"I  did  some  think  Tom  was  sweet  on  her  that 
time  she  was  here  two  summers  ago,"  he  remarked. 

Color  came  pinkly  into  Miss  Ormond's  white 
face.  "  Oh,  yes,  how  is  Tom  ?"  she  asked  hastily. 
"I  haven't  forgotten  what  an  interest  he  was  to 
you  and  Mrs.  Hodgson.  You  know  I  was  here 
when  his  parents  died  and  he  first  came  to  you 
from  out  West,  —  Michigan,  was  n't  it,  where  he 
lived?  Such  a  solemn-looking  boy." 

"Well  he  might  look  solemn,  the  dear  child," 
said  Mrs.  Hodgson,  "leaving  all  his  friends  and 
coming  to  perfect  strangers  like  us,  even  if  we 
were  his  uncle  and  aunt.  We  're  proud  of  Tom, 
just  as  proud  as  we  can  be." 


WITH    THE    FIRST   SNOW.  15 

"  I  am  sure  he  ought  to  be  devoted  to  you,  since 
you  did  so  much  for  his  education." 

"Oh,  he  had  something,"  explained  Mrs.  Hodg- 
son. "We  helped  him  out,  as  of  course  we  ought 
to.  It  was  a  great  thing  for  him  to  go  through 
the  Institute,  worth  all  the  effort  we  could  make." 

"Has  he  graduated?" 

"Certainly,  a  year  ago.  We  always  thought 
Stevens  men  could  get  good  positions  the  minute 
they  were  out;  but  't ain't  always  so,  as  Tom 
found.  He  's  been  workin'  at  one  thing  and  an- 
other till  this  fall  he  's  really  got  a  place  he  likes 
in  NewaVk.  His  sister  has  come  on  and  joined 
him,  and  they  are  as  happy  as  birds  by  their  let- 
ters. She  seems  to  be  smart 's  a  whip,  too.  She 
stayed  a  week  down  here  in  August,  and  we  liked 
her  first-rate ;  did  n't  we,  Pa?" 

"Yes;  the  girl 's  got  snap  to  her,  and  she  favors 
my  sister,  too.  That 's  say  in'  enough  for  her 
looks." 

"Your  mother's  well,  Kitty?"  asked  Mrs. 
Hodgson. 

"Yes,  very  well,  thank  you.  The  busiest  one 
in  the  family,  as  usual.  She  belongs  to  so  many 
clubs  and  societies." 

"Who  keeps  house,  then?'' 

"I  do.     I  have  a  gift  for  it.       Look  at  me !  " 

"Don't  that  beat  all!  I  should  think  she  'd  be 
afraid  you  'd  be  extravagant." 

"It  doesn't  matter  quite  so  much  about  that  as 
it  used  to.  Mr.  Arnold,  who  has  helped  mother 


16  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

in  her  affairs  since  father  died,  has  invested  the 
money  so  successfully  that  we  have  a  little  more 
leeway  than  at  the  time  you  used  to  hear  mother 
talk  about  them." 

"That's  clever." 

"Yes,  it  is  very  convenient.  It  keeps  mother 
young  not  to  have  to  worry." 

Mrs.  Hodgson  looked  thoughtfully  into  her 
guest's  face,  so  thoughtfully  and  so  long  that 
Katherine  stirred  uneasily. 

"Well?"  she  asked,  smiling. 

"Well,  I  was  only  thinkin'  that  I  guessed  you 
were  probably  an  important  member  "of  your 
family." 

The  girl  spread  out  her  hands.  "All  wrong, 
my  dear  Mrs.  Hodgson.  I  am  only  the  general 
utility  member.  Somebody  says :  '  Everybody  is 
needed.  Nobody  is  needed  much.'  I  'm  not 
needed  much.  But  I  can  make  tea.  You  haven't 
said  what  good  tea  this  is." 

"It 's  capital,  Kitty.  You  've  done  me  lots  o' 
good." 


CHAPTER  II. 

MARGUERITE. 

KATHERINE  stayed  with  her  old  friends  until  the 
sun  shone  brightly  again,  and  the  last  traces  of 
mud  following  the  pretty  snowstorm  had  hardened 
in  a  frost. 

Her  entertainers  felt  reluctant  to  see  her  depart. 

"May  the  notion  take  ye  soon  again,  Kitty," 
said  the  host,  as  she  stepped  out  of  his  wagon 
upon  the  depot  platform. 

"I  hope  it  won't,  Mr.  Hodgson,"  returned  the 
girl  cheerily.  "I  feel  toned  up  and  in  fine  condi- 
tion. You  would  better  hope  that  I  will  be  con- 
tented now  to  stay  at  home  and  behave  myself." 

"You  always  behave  yourself,"  was  the  rather 
dejected  reply. 

"I  '11  tell  mother  you  said  so."  Miss  Ormond's 
bright  eyes  hid  between  her  lashes  as  she  smiled 
and  waved  her  hand,  for  the  train  was  coming. 

Silas  Hodgson  nodded,  and  pulled  his  beard  as 
he  sat,  allowing  the  reins  to  lie  loosely  upon  his 
imperturbable  horse. 

Katherine  waved  her  hand  once  more  to  him 
from  the  car  window  as  the  train  pulled  out. 

The  reminiscent  smile  on  her  lips  scarcely  faded 


18  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

before  she  reached  Long  Island  City ;  and  when 
she  had  crossed  New  York  and  taken  the  train  at 
Hoboken  for  her  suburban  home,  it  returned. 

"Montaigne!  "  yelled  the  brakeman  at  last,  and 
she  left  the  cars.  Her  innocent  escapade  was 
over,  but  the  aroma  of  it  was  fresh  in  her  heart 
when  she  met  her  mother,  in  careful  street  dress, 
at  the  gate  of  their  modern,  pretty  home. 

"I  have  had  such  a  good  time! "  she  declared, 
greeting  her  affectionately. 

"You  look  it,  Katherine,"  returned  Mrs.  Or- 
mond,  regarding  her  daughter  with  a  scrutiny  in 
which  curiosity  had  a  part.  "You  found  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Hodgson  well,  of  course." 

"Yes,  and  they  sent  so  much  love  to  you." 

Mrs.  Ormond  laughed  leniently,  and  gave  the 
hand  she  was  holding  an  affectionate  parting 
shake.  "Much  obliged  to  them.  I  should  like 
to  see  them  myself,  but  I'm  afraid  it  wouldn't 
occur  to  me  to  make  the  trip  just  at  this  time." 

"But  you  know  I  was  so  tired,  traveling 
around." 

Her  mother's  eyes  twinkled.  "So  you  thought 
you  would  jump  into  the  bramble-bush?  " 

"Bramble-bush!  As  if  dear  old  Pokonet  was 
anything  like  the  places  we  have  rushed  about  all 
summer." 

"Well,  good-by.  I  mustn't  be  late  for  the 
hospital  board  meeting.  It  is  all  right,  Kather- 
ine, even  if  I  don't  quite  understand  you.  Some 
hens  do  hatch  ducks." 


MARGUERITE.  19 

"Thank  you,  mother;  I'm  so  glad  you  think 
I  'm  a  duck,"  and  the  girl  threw  a  kiss  after  the 
retreating  figure,  as  she  walked  backward  up  the 
patfi  and  entered  the  house. 

"Well,  Katherine,  is  that  you!"  exclaimed  a 
voice,  quickly  followed  by  a  lithe,  slim  figure  as 
a  girl  appeared  from  the  depths  of  an  armchair. 
"It  seems  as  if  you  had  been  gone  a  year." 

The  heartiness  of  their  greeting  showed  the 
attachment  that  existed  between  the  sisters. 
Madeline  Ormond  was  a  fair-haired,  blue-eyed 
beauty,  sufficiently  striking  in  appearance  to  ex- 
cuse the  superlatives  which  a  partial  sister  had 
employed  in  speaking  of  her  to  the  Hodgsons. 

"I  am  glad  that  is  over,"  continued  Madeline, 
seating  herself  and  returning  to  her  task  of  exam- 
ining a  box  of  odds  and  ends  of  millinery. 

"What?  Hugging  me?  Thanks,"  returned 
Katherine,  removing  her  wraps. 

"You  know  well  enough  what  I  mean.  This 
freak  of  yours.  Pokonet  —  Poky-net,  I  should 
prefer  to  call  it  at  this  season." 

"Bless  its  pokiness!"  uttered  Katherine  de- 
voutly. 

"You  were  caught  in  a  snowstorm,  too." 

"Indeed  I  was,  a  lovely  one.  It  was  so  cosy, 
shut  in  there  with  the  Hodgsons,  living  over  good 
old  times ! " 

"Ugh!  Excuse  me  from  that  form  of  dissi- 
pation. You  are  rightly  named,  Kitty,  Kitty, 
Kitty!" 


20  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Why?  Because  I  like  the  fire?"  Katherine 
curled  up  in  the  corner  of  a  divan  and  watched 
the  blazing  logs  on  their  heavy  brass  andirons. 

"No;  but  because  you  cannot  be  torn  from  old 
associations." 

Katherine  made  a  repressive  gesture. 

"Control  your  impatience,  Madeline,  to  hear 
all  about  it,  and  I  will  tell  you  the  Pokoiiet 
news." 

"No,  you  won't,  my  dear.  I  presume  the  sea 
and  the  dunes  and  the  pond  and  the  Hodgsons  are 
all  there,  and  all  the  same  as  they  were  two  years 
ago  when  I  saw  them.  Voila  tout.  We  are 
invited  to  a  tea  at  the  Allingtons'  on  Monday,  and 
the  Arnolds  are  going  to  have  a  Thanksgiving 
dance  in  their  new  barn.  It  is  all  to  be  decorated 
with  grain  and  fruit  and  vegetables,  and  the 
stables  are  to  be  furnished  with  divans  and  rugs 
and  colored  lanterns.  Won't  they  make  jolly  lit- 
tle twosing  corners?  A  conservatory  can't  com- 
pare." 

"Twosing!     What's  that?" 

"Don't  you  know?  I  guessed  right  away  when 
Ed  Arnold  used  the  word  the  other  evening.  He 
is  authority  on  the  latest  *  sabre  cuts  of  Saxon 
speech. '  At  any  rate,  you  '11  find  out  what  it 
means  at  the  dance.  Ed  will  show  you.  He  is 
always  so  philanthropic,  and  willing  to  instruct 
the  young." 

"The  Hodgsons  asked  all  about  Maidie,"  said 
Katherine,  with  mild  reproach. 


MARGUERITE.  21 

"  Well,  of  course  you  told  them.  I  trust  myself 
in  your  hands  willingly.  I  'm  very  glad  you  had 
a  good  time.  You  know  that.  I  only  don't  see 
how  you  could,  that  is  all." 

"  I  feel  as  if  I  had  been  smoothed  the  right  way, 
and  been  patted  comfortingly,  for  days,"  said 
Katherine  dreamily. 

Her  sister  laughed.  "Kitty,  Kitty,  Kitty!" 
she  repeated.  "You  don't  mind  being  thought 
kittenish,  do  you?" 

"Tom  graduated  all  right,"  went  on  the  elder. 

Madeline  raised  her  pretty  eyes  inquiringly. 
"Tom  who?" 

"Tom  Sheldon." 

"Oh."  Madeline  returned  to  her  velvet  and 
feathers.  "I  remember  now,  he  was  in  some 
college." 

"You  would  better  remember,"  said  Kate,  with 
spirit.  "  He  was  at  Pokonet  two  years  ago,  when 
you  went  there  to  stay  a  week  and  stayed  a  fort- 
night because  he  was  there.  I  just  wish  I  had 
been  with  you." 

Madeline  raised  her  delicate  eyebrows.  "Your 
tone  suggests  that  the  longing  is  not  prompted  by 
affection,  ma  chere." 

"No,  it  isn't,"  replied  Katherine  emphatically. 
"  I  wish  I  had  been  there  to  bring  you  home  in 
the  one  week." 

"Why,  what  harm  did  I  do,  honey?"  Made- 
line spoke  abstractedly  as  she  continued  to  ran- 
sack the  millinery  box,  separating  its  contents  into 
little  piles. 


22  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"I  don't  know;  but  Mr.  Hodgson  said  he  had 
an  idea  that  Tom  was  sweet  on  you." 

"And  you  are  vexed  with  me  for  that?"  in 
surprise. 

"Oh,  when  he  said  that  I  didn't  know  what 
might  have  happened.  I  remembered  vaguely  that 
you  laughed  about  Tom  when  you  came  home. 
Nothing  would  be  so  bad  as  hurting  one  of  those 
people,"  finished  Katherine,  rather  incoherently. 

Madeline  laughed.  "  The  idea  of  exciting  your- 
self over  a  two-year-old  offense  —  I  mean  suppos- 
ing it  was  an  offense." 

"Tell  me  all  about  it,"  said  Katherine,  imperi- 
ously. 

"Little  girls  should  say  'please,'"  remarked 
her  sister. 

"Please  do,  Madeline." 

"Why,  I  only  remember  in  the  vaguest  way," 
replied  the  girl  carelessly.  "He  was  the  bathing- 
master  there  that  summer." 

"He  was?  I  had  forgotten,  if  you  told  me 
that." 

"Yes,  it  seems  he  did  everything  he  could  to 
earn  money,  summers." 

"That  was  Christian  of  him,"  said  Katherine 
with  interest  and  satisfaction,  "not  to  want  to  be 
more  of  an  expense  than  was  necessary  to  those 
dear  old  people." 

"Oh  yes.  He  was  a  very  decent  fellow,  and 
the  girls  all  liked  him.  There  were  a  number  of 
girls  there  when  I  was.  He  was  proud,  too,  and 


MARGUERITE.  23 

very  stand-off  with  us  all.  You  know  how  free 
and  easy  that  beach  life  is,  but  his  attitude  was 
always:  '  I  remember  that  I  am  bathing-master. 
Though  I  touch  your  hand,  it  is  in  the  way  of 
business.'  Of  course,  if  he  had  been  ugly,  it 
wouldn't  have  mattered;  but  the  fact  was,  he  was 
rather  good-looking  and  splendidly  built,  and 'the 
girls  were  graciousness  itself  to  him.  There 
wasn't  another  man  there  as  attractive  —  and, 
well,  —  you  know  your  little  sister.  Modesty  for- 
bids me  to  specify,  but  you  know  the  sequel. 
Where,"  diving  about  in  the  box  at  her  side,  "is 
that  jet  butterfly?  " 

"Madeline  Orniond,"  said  Katherine,  who  was 
regarding  her  with  wide,  anxious  eyes,  "you  en- 
couraged him! " 

Madeline  shrugged  her  shoulder.  "  I  can  truth- 
fully say  that  I  never  saw  a  man  who  required  it 
more." 

Her  sister  sat  upright.  "Did  he  propose  to 
you?  Did  Tom  Sheldon  propose  to  you?  I  tell 
you  now  that  if  he  did,  you  have  proved  by  your 
confession  it  was  your  own  fault,  and  I  shall  be 
ashamed  of  it  always.  I  would  n't  have  gone  to 
Pokonet  if  I  had  known.  Instead,  I  would  have 
hidden  my  head  from  those  dear  people  who  have 
been  so  devoted  to  us!  " 

Madeline  looked  into  the  excited  face  in  aston- 
ishment. 

"But  all  this  is  two  years  past,"  she  protested 
mildly. 


24  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Then  you  did  do  it."  Katherine  made  an 
indignant  gesture. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  the  younger,  return- 
ing her  gaze,  "I  haven't  said  so,  and  I  don't 
intend  to.  If  you  had  asked  me  before  you  went 
to  Pokonet,  and  offered  to  stay  at  home  in  case  of 
my  guilt,  there  might  have  been  a  motive  for 
incriminating  myself,  for  I  didn't  at  all  want  you 
to  go ;  but  the  prospect  of  your  being  ashamed  of 
me  forever  is  not  sufficiently  tempting  to  wring  a 
confession  from  me.  My  dear  Katherine,  you  're 
a  goose!  Why,  for  pity's  sake,"  in  exasperation, 
"you  are  really  crying;  "  for  two  drops  ran  swiftly 
down  from  Kate's  bright  eyes.  "What  folly! 
Of  course  I  did  many  things  two  years  ago  that  I 
would  n't  do  now.  There,  then,  if  you  will  have 
it,  Tom  Sheldon  never  did  propose  to  me.  I  saw 
it  coming,  and  I  ran  away.  How  absurd  you  are, 
Katherine,"  for  the  latter  looked  little  mollified. 
"  If  you  could  only  see  your  protege  now,  I  fancy 
it  would  show  your  sympathy  in  a  ridiculous  light. 
He  has  forgotten  my  existence,  as  I  had  forgotten 
his,  I  am  sure;  and  he  is  a  very  robust  party." 

"He  is  the  Hodgsons'  idol,"  said  Katherine 
briefly. 

"And  you  say  he  graduated  all  right?  "  returned 
her  sister,  with  the  interest  which  the  occasion 
evidently  demanded.  "How  gratifying  to  them." 

Katherine  leaned  back  among  her  pillows. 
"Whatever  you  did,  those  dear  people  spoke  as 
kindly  as  ever  of  Mai  die." 


MMIGI'ERITE.  25 

"Proof  positive  that  I  behaved  well,"  returned 
the  other  gayly,  "and  left  a  good  reputation  be- 
hrncl  me." 

"I  hope  so." 

"What  do  you  suppose  I  'm  doing,  Kather- 
ine?" 

"I  can  see." 

"It  would  be  safe  to  wager  that  a  dozen  other 
girls  in  Montaigne  are  doing  the  same  thing  this 
morning,"  went  on  Madeline.  "A  new  fad  has 
developed  since  you  went  away." 

"As  suddenly  as  that?  " 

"Yes.  Do  you  remember  the  new  milliner, 
mother  liked  so  much?  "- 

"  The  one  who  has  '  Marguerite '  on  her  win- 
dow? " 

"Yes.  She  has  suddenly  sprung  into  popular- 
ity, and  the  latest  thing  is  to  take  lessons  of  her. 
Lots  of  the  girls  have  begun." 

"Then  you  are  going  to  join  the  ranks,  I  sup- 
pose." 

"I  thought  of  having  you  do  it."  Madeline 
looked  up,  smiling.  "You  are  so  much  cleverer 
than  I  with  your  hands.  Don't  you  want  to?" 

"Laziness!  "  commented  the  elder. 

"No,  modesty.  You  know  I  am  clumsy  with 
a  needle." 

"Why  not  take  the  lessons  together?"  sug- 
gested Katherine. 

"Mademoiselle  refuses  to  take  more  than  one 
at  a  time.  She  has  an  eye  to  the  main  chance, 


26  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

you  see,  and  is  bound  to  make  the  most  of  her 
popularity.  She  is  quite  autocratic,  they  say." 

"Better  keep  in  the  swim,  Madeline.  You 
need  outlets  for  your  energy.  Think  what  a  fine 
one  it  would  be  to  trim  three  sets  of  hats  and 
bonnets  for  your  family!  I  wouldn't  rob  you  of 
the  opportunity  for  the  world." 

"Oh,  I  dare  say  I  could  learn,"  replied  the 
younger,  "if  you  are  not  going  to  take  an  inter- 
est." 

"Well,  it  is  rather  late  in  the  season.  I  have 
all  the  hats  I  want  for  the  present.  Marguerite 
didn't  make  them  either." 

"No,  if  she  had,  you  would  be  more  enthusias- 
tic. It  was  clever  of  her  to  wait  until  she  had 
hatted  what  fall  customers  she  could  get  before 
she  offered  to  give  these  lessons.  She  is  a  shrewd 
one,  evidently.  Well,  I  am  going  to  leave  you. 
So  dream  away  of  sand  dunes  till  I  come  back. 
I  am  off  to  Marguerite.  I  am  ashamed  to  confess 
that  I  haven't  seen  her  yet,  myself." 

Madeline  rose  with  her  spoils,  and  went,  hum- 
ming, from  the  room.  When  she  came  down- 
stairs again,  she  was  surprised  to  see  that  her 
sister  had  resumed  her  hat  and  coat. 

"Oh  yes,  I  am  going  to  chaperone  you  to  your 
destination,"  remarked  Katherine.  "I'm  going 
to  see  that  you  are  not  being  led  away  by  youth- 
ful folly.  Where  are  your  fuss  and  feathers? " 

"I  am  not  going  to  carry  anything  to-day.  I 
have  n't  arranged  for  lessons  yet,  and  don't  know 
what  is  required." 


MARGUEKITE.  27 

The  girls  walked  down  the  street  with  the  easy 
accord  in  step  which  proved  their  habit  of  com- 
panionship. Their  tongues  flew  faster  than  their 
feet,  as  they  talked  of  the  winter  plans;  schemes 
for  their  mission  and  sewing-school  work  being 
discussed  with  the  same  zest  bestowed  upon  their 
ball-gowns  and  literary  clubs.  Montaigne  had 
its  manufacturing  district  and  its  slums,  where, 
on  a  small  scale,  the  sad  squalor  of  life  equaled 
that  to  be  found  within  the  boundaries  of  its  big 
neighbor  New  York;  and  society  furnished  chari- 
table workers  in  the  small  city  as  well  as  in  the 
great  one. 

The  girls  reached  the  main  street,  and  scorning 
conveyances,  kept  on  their  even  way  until  they 
reached  the  building  which  was  their  destination. 
Its  first  floor  was  occupied  by  two  stores,  between 
which  a  flight  of  stairs  led  upward.  On  the  sec- 
ond story,  at  the  left  side,  was  a  bay  window,  and 
upon  its  middle  sheet  of  glass  was  gilded  the 
name  "Marguerite."  Several  bonnets  were  visi- 
ble upon  standards  within,  if  one  stood  far  enough 
out  upon  the  edge  of  the  walk  to  look  up  at  them. 

"An  inconvenient  place,  I  should  think,"  was 
Katherine's  comment.  "There  is  Betty  Arnold," 
she  added. 

A  young  lady  came  swiftly  down  the  stairs,  as 
she  spoke,  and  greeted  the  sisters  brightly. 

"You  poor  benighted  girls!"  she  ejaculated. 
"If  you  only  knew  how  to  make  such  a  fold  as  I 
can!" 


28  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"You  are  taking  lessons,  then ?  "  returned  Kath- 
erine. 

"Why,  it  was  Betty  who  started  the  whole 
thing,"  said  Madeline. 

"Certainly;  Mademoiselle  had  made  me  a  hat, 
and  it  was  exquisite,  and  I  was  telling  her  how  I 
wished  I  could  do  such  a  thing.  She  remarked 
that  there  was  no  need  of  my  doing  it,  and  I  told 
her  that  there  was  110  need  of  my  painting  on 
china,  but  that  I  did  it,  and  I  didn't  add  that 
my  work  was  atrocious.  I  said  I  thought  such  a 
hat  was  just  as  good  as  a  picture,  and  she  volun- 
teered then  to  teach  me  what  she  could.  So,  you 
know,  we  girls  are  like  sheep  anyway,  and  as  soon 
as  I  started,  a  lot  of  the  other  girls  did,  and 
Mademoiselle  is  going  to  make  a  pretty  good 
thing  but  of  it.  Are  you  sheep,  too?" 

"I  'm  not  sure,"  replied  Madeline  languidly, 
raising  her  eyebrows.  "Betty  is  so  conceited," 
she  added,  after  the  merry-eyed  girl  had  left 
them.  "It  is  too  provoking  that  she  should  think 
I  do  it  because  she  does.  Betty  Arnold  is  n't  the 
sort  of  girl  to  set  any  fashion." 

"So  this  woman  is  French,"  said  Katherine,  as 
they  started  up  the  stairs.  Rapidly  in  her  mind's 
eye  she  formed  the  picture  of  a  crepee  blonde  head, 
dark  eyelashes,  a  wasp  waist,  and  a  set  smile. 

"Marguerite"  was  in  small  black  letters  on  a 
glass  door  to  the  left  of  the  stairs  as  they  ascended, 
and  another  sign  invited  them  to  walk  in.  They 
opened  the  door,  and  entered  a  light  room  fur- 


MARGUERITE.  29 

nished  with  a  small,  glass-inclosed  counter,  two 
or  three  wicker  chairs,  a  Japanese  screen,  and  the 
sparsely  filled  metal  branches  in  the  bay  window. 
The  room  was  evidently  the  parlor  of  a  flat,  and 
there  were  a  few  photographs  beside  the  clock  on 
the  mantelpiece  above  the  hard-coal  fire. 

Immediately  a  singularly  handsome  girl  raised 
the  portiere  and  entered  the  room.  She  was 
lame,  and  her  black  dress  made  her  slight  figure 
look  still  more  childlike  as  she  raised  her  eyes 
inquiringly  toward  the  visitors. 

"Very  French,"  thought  Katherine,  viewing 
the  dark  features. 

"What  can  I  do  for  you?"  inquired  the  girl 
softly,  with  a  marked  accent. 

"We  wish  to  see  the  milliner,  Mademoiselle 
Marguerite,"  answered  Madeline,  in  her  habitual 
imperious  manner. 

"Are  the  ladies  in  haste?"  asked  the  girl  in  a 
gently  polite  and  musical  slow  tone,  which  made 
the  other's  seem  coarse. 

"Well,  yes,  somewhat,"  replied  Madeline,  hesi- 
tating a  little,  and  speaking  lower. 

"I  will  see  at  once,"  said  the  lame  girl,  bowing 
deferentially  and  retiring  behind  the  portiere. 

"This  is  all  very  odd,"  murmured  Katherine, 
looking  about  her  curiously.  "I  should  say,  if 
this  woman  had  not  happened  to  make  a  hit,  she 
would  run  a  good  chance  of  starving  up  here  with 
nothing  more  stirring  in  sight  than  that  Oriental- 
looking  child." 


30  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"But  look  at  those  bonnets!"  returned  Made- 
line convincingly. 

The  girls  moved  to  the  window,  and  examined 
the  dainty  creations  with  interest. 

"Oh,  I  must  take  the  lessons,"  said  Madeline, 
her  eyes  shining  with  approval.  "Aren't  they 
distinguees,  every  one  ?  How  quickly  one  can  tell 
that  indescribable  French  touch.  I  hope  I  am 
reasonably  patriotic,  but  it  is  an  undeniable  fact 
that  no  American  fingers  ever  could  have  made 
those  bonnets." 

"Beg  pardon,  ladies,"  said  a  voice  behind  the 
pair,  who  had  been  too  absorbed  in  their  scrutiny 
to  hear  the  entrance  of  the  mistress  of  the  estab- 
lishment. 

They  turned  quickly,  and  beheld  a  young  woman 
regarding  them.  Her  costume  was  simple,  with 
a  simplicity  which  somewhat  irritated  Katherine. 
It  was  the  simplicity  of  the  poverty-stricken  hero- 
ine of  the  stage,  whose  gray  gown  fits  like  a  glove, 
and  whose  lingerie  is  always  clear-starched  to 
dainty  perfection.  The  gown  defied  fashion,  and 
was  picturesque  in  its  long,  straight  lines.  Not  a 
curl  or  a  crimp  had  this  tall  young  woman.  Her 
well-brushed  auburn  hair  was  of  the  fine  and  soft 
description  which  made  a  pompadour  effect  as  it 
was  carried  back  into  a  knot  under  the  high  comb. 
Her  deep  blue  eyes  were  fearless  in  their  gaze, 
her  nose  was  slender,  and  her  lips  well  curved. 
She  seemed  to  Katherine  to  be  trying  to  keep 
those  lips  in  sober  order  as  she  stood  there,  and 


,  MARGUERITE.  31 

to  be  hiding  a  laugh  in  the  depths  of  those  won- 
derfully clear  eyes.  Altogether,  she  was  a  distin- 
guished figure,  as  far  out  of  the  common  as  was 
the  peculiar  knack  of  style  which  had  set  young 
feminine  Montaigne  to  running  over  her  steep 
stairs. 

"Oh  —  a"  —stammered  Madeline  Ormond  at 
first  in  unwonted  embarrassment;  then  quickly 
recovering  her  poise:  "I  was  just  wishing  that  I 
needed  one  of  those  pretty  hats,"  she  said,  with 
more  than  a  shade  of  patronage.  She  was  the 
sort  of  girl  who  is  accustomed  to  be  flattered  and 
deferred  to  by  those  whose  business  it  is  to  clothe 
her  charming  person. 

"I"  wish  you  did,"  answered  the  milliner 
promptly;  "but  perhaps  you  are  looking  for 
something  lighter." 

If  there  had  been  amusement  in  her  face  when 
the  girls  caught  their  first  glimpse  of  her,  it  was 
gone  now.  She  was  the  alert  woman  of  business, 
and  looked  from  Madeline  to  Katherine  with  an 
expression  which  to  the  latter 's  acuter  perception 
suggested  that  time  was  money. 

"I  am  afraid  I  mustn't  want  another  hat  just 
now,"  returned  Madeline  deliberately.  "I  am 
Miss  Ormond.  You  made  a  bonnet  for  my  mother, 
this  fall." 

"I  remember  Mrs.  Ormond  very  well." 

"You  must  make  yourself  very  tempting  to 
draw  middle-aged  ladies  up  those  stairs." 

"I   make    bonnets    only   for    ladies    who    feel 


32  THE    WISE    WO  MAX. 

young,"  replied  the  milliner  with  the  flash  of  a 
smile.  "Can  I  do  something  for  you? "  she 
added,  after  a  second  of  silence. 

"We  are  told  that  you  teach  your  art,"  said 
Katherine,  speaking  for  the  first  time.  "  I  should 
like  to  take  lessons." 

"You,  Katherine?"  Madeline  spoke  in  sur- 
prise. 

"Yes,  I  most  unexpectedly  feel  the  stirring  of 
talent. 

"Thenl"- 

"Then  you  needn't  follow  Betty  Arnold's 
lead,?'  said  Kate  softly,  her  eyes  going  into  hiding 
as  the  milliner  walked  away  to  get  her  book. 
"You  have  a  reputation  to  lose.  I  have  n't. 
Wait  and  see  how  I  succeed." 

"I  would  so  much  rather  you  did  it.  I  said 
so  all  the  time,"  returned  Madeline,  well  satisfied 
with  this  turn  of  events. 


CHAPTER  III. 
KATHERINE'S  FIRST  LESSON. 

"You  did  come  home,  then,"  said  Gilbert  Or- 
mond,  as  Katherine  gave  him  a  hearty  hug  on 
his  return  to  dinner  that  evening.  Neither  Mrs. 
Ormond  nor  Madeline  would  have  thought,  under 
the  circumstances,  of  hugging  their  budding  law- 
yer, although  they  were  firmly  convinced  that  he 
was  a  most  remarkable  young  man,  and  they  loved 
and  admired  him  as  only  mothers  and  sisters  can 
love  and  admire.  They  greeted  him  decorously 
on  the  occasions  of  meeting  and  parting,  but  the 
scrupulous  correctness  of  his  appearance  never 
suffered  by  them. 

On  the  present  occasion  he  was  fain  to  pass  a 
caressing  hand  over  the  fair  hair  at  the  back  of 
his  head  after  Katherine  let  him  go,  but  the  smile 
of  satisfaction  was  still  on  his  lips  as  he  seated 
himself  at  the  foot  of  the  table. 

"Now  let  this  be  enough  of  going  away,"  he 
remarked,  as  he  began  to  carve  the  lamb.  "Inter- 
fering people,  busy-bodies  like  you,  are  missed 
from  the  family  circle.  How  is  Pokonet?  " 

"Beautiful.  Mr.  Hodgson  wanted  to  know  all 
about  Gilly.  I  told  him  you  weren't  so  much  of 


34  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

a  gilly  as  you  used  to  be,  'count  of  having  been  to 
college  like  a  nice,  bright  boy." 

"They  remember  us  all,  then."  Gilbert's  small 
golden  moustache  curved  smilingly. 

"Remember  us?  Why,  we  are  like  their  own 
children.  We  are  all  the  children  they  have." 

"You  forget  Tom,"  suggested  Madeline  mis- 
chievously. 

"You  'd  better,  too,"  retorted  Kate  briefly. 

"  I  had  once,  and  you  resurrected  him  with  such 
vigor  that  I  haven't  quite  recovered  yet." 

"Who  is  Tom?"  inquired  Gilbert. 

"No  one  you  know." 

"Why,  yes  I  do,  if  you  mean  Tom  Sheldon. 
He  arrived  on  the  scene  the  last  summer  I  spent 
at  Pokonet.  We  were  great  chums.  I  never 
told  anybody  how  he  dragged  me  out  of  the 
clutches  of  the  under -tow  one  day.  I  firmly  be- 
lieve that  if  he  hadn't,  you  wouldn't  have  any 
brother  now." 

"Gilbert  Ormond!  "  ejaculated  his  mother, 
while  the  girls  shuddered. 

"I  didn't  say  anything  about  it  at  the  time,  for 
I  well  knew  I  should  get  my  bathing  limited  to 
the  pond,  if  mother  heard  of  it.  We  did  n't  think 
much  about  it,  either  of  us ;  but  I  remember  Tom 
was  white  as  a  ghost  by  the  time  we  lay  on  the 
beach  facing  each  other.  I  fancy  we  had  both 
forgotten  it  in  an  hour,  but  as  I  look  back  now, 
I  realize  that  he  acted  with  a  good  deal  of  pluck 
and  promptness.  I  thought  I  saw  him  the  other 


'  KATIJJERINE'S   FIRST   LESSON.  35 

day  in  Newark.  I  met  a  workman  with  a  rather 
grimy  appearance  carrying  a  tin  lunch-box.  Tom 
Sheldon  might  have  grown  to  look  like  that  man. 
There  was  a  very  familiar  expression  about  the 
eyes.  I  thought  for  a  second  of  speaking  to  the 
fellow,  and  then  I  considered  that  it  wouldn't  be 
any  particular  use.  He  did  n't  appear  to  recog- 
nize me." 

"  Perhaps  it  was  Tom,  and  it  would  have  been 
a  pleasure  to  him,"  said  Katherme. 

"You  certainly  ought  not  to  have  passed  by  a 
possible  scion  of  that  sacred  Hodgson  family," 
put  in  Madeline. 

"He  saved  Gilbert's  life!  "  exclaimed  the  elder 
sister. 

"Ages  ago,  while  they  were  playing,  he  possi- 
bly did ;  but  Gilbert's  imagination  probably  exag- 
gerates the  situation  now;  and  at  all  events  the 
facts  do  not  warrant  his  feeling  obliged  to  fall  on 
the  neck  of  a  grimy  workman  with  a  tin  lunch- 
box,  who  lives  as  near  as  Newark,  and  might  turn 
out  really  to  be  Tom  and  offer  to  come  and  see 
us."  Madeline  made  a  grimace  and  a  gesture  of 
dismay,  at  the  same  time  that  her  mind  involun- 
tarily conjured  up  a  picture  of  a  young  athlete  in 
a  bathing-suit  upon  whom  her  own  soft  eyes  cast 
gracious  glances,  and  the  memory  colored  her 
cheeks. 

"Tom  has  done  splendidly,"  said  Katherine 
earnestly  to  her  brother.  "He  has  gone  through 
Stevens  "  — 


36  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Then  Gilbert  did  n't  meet  him.  Be  com- 
forted," said  Madeline. 

"I  am  more  inclined  to  think  I  did,"  returned 
Gilbert.  "The  Stevens  men  go  into  machine- 
shops  and  begin  at  the  bottom  very  often.  I  am 
glad  if  Tom  has  done  well.  Still  gladder  to  see 
you  back,  Katherine,"  he  added,  turning  to  his 
sister  with  an  air  of  changing  the  subject.  "I 
suppose  you  will  settle  down  now." 

"  I  am  going  to  distinguish  myself  in  an  entirely 
new  line,"  announced  Katherine,  with  a  grand  air. 
"Mother,  has  Madeline  told  you?  Behold  your 
future  milliner."  She  laid  her  hand  on  her  breast 
and  bowed  her  head. 

"I  have  heard  about  these  lessons  the  girls  are 
taking,"  said  Mrs.  Ormond.  "It  is  a  very  good 
idea." 

"So  Madeline  roped  you  in,  did  she?"  asked 
Gilbert.  "She  has  been  threatening." 

"No,  she  did  n't.  I  could  have  stood  out 
against  Madeline,  and  was  doing  so  very  well; 
but  that  creature  hypnotized  me." 

"The  milliner?"  asked  Mrs.  Ormond,  smiling. 

"Yes.  That  room  up  there  is  the  den  of  a 
siren.  There  is  something  uncanny  about  that 
woman." 

"Well,"  remarked  Gilbert,  "I  think  the  fathers 
of  families  should  be  warned.  I  can't  imagine 
a  much  more  dangerous  character  to  be  at  large 
than  a  hypnotic  milliner." 

"That  is  just  what  she  is,"  declared  Katherine. 


,  KATIfERINE'S    FIRST   LESSON.  37 

"I  went,  and  saw,  and  was  conquered;  and  when 
you  see  what  hats  I  shall  make,  you  will  wish  you 
were  a  woman." 

"Oh,  Madeline  can  absorb  all  the  headgear  you 
can  construct,"  returned  Gilbert.  "That  is  her 
specialty.  I  foresee  in  the  future  a  perfect  orgy 
of  big  hats  in  the  style  our  aesthetic  maiden 
affects." 

Madeline  raised  her  lashes  and  glanced  at  her 
brother.  She  knew  he  was  not  the  exception 
among  her  masculine  admirers. 

"You  are  only  paying  tribute  to  my  cleverness," 
she  remarked.  "I  do  not  waste  time  trying  to 
be  a  tailor-made  girl  when  I  am  perfectly  aware 
I  am  not  built  for  it.  Every  one  should  study 
her  own  style.  Now  if  that  Marguerite  had  a 
little  more  ambition,  she  needn't  be  such  an  odd- 
looking  figure  herself.  She  is  a  sufficiently 
good-looking  person . ' ' 

"Ambition!  Good-looking!"  repeated  Kath- 
erine.  "Madeline,  I  am  surprised  at  your  child- 
like naivete.  Do  you  suppose  that  siren  hasn't 
bestowed  as  much  thought  011  her  personal  appear- 
ance as  she  does  on  those  bewitching  bonnets?" 

"She  needn't  look  so  absurdly  unconventional." 

"Of  course  she  needn't;  but  she  wants  to.  She 
wishes  people  to  remark  the  contrast  between  the 
up-to-date  millinery  and  the  quaint  milliner.  It 
is  a  part  of  her  designing  schemes  to  have  that 
picturesque  French  cripple  as  an  assistant." 

"I  can't  think  a  person  in  her  walk  of  life,  a 


38  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

business  woman  like  that,  would  be  so  foolish  as 
to  suppose  her  appearance  would  be  of  consequence 
one  way  or  the  other  to  her  customers,"  rejoined 
Madeline  indifferently. 

"That  young  girl  isn't  French,"  put  in  Mrs. 
Ormond.  "  She  is  an  Italian  right  from  our  own 
poor  district.  Mrs.  Arnold  was  telling  me  that 
Mademoiselle  Marguerite  happened  to  run  across 
her  and  took  her  in  charitably.  The  child  herself 
told  her.  Her  name  is  Lucia." 

"Explosion  of  bubble  number  one,"  said  Made- 
line. "Katherine,  you  are  too  imaginative.  I 
am  sorry  to  have  you  lose  any  of  the  accessories 
you  have  gifted  your  teacher  with,  if  it  will  make 
her  any  less  interesting,  for  I  am  delighted  that 
you  will  go  to  her.  This  is  ever  so  much  more 
interesting  than  cooking-school." 

"Permit  me  to  differ,"  remarked  Gilbert. 

Katherine  started  off  the  next  day,  with  the 
blessing  of  her  approving  sister,  for  her  first  lesson. 

As  she  reached  the  foot  of  Marguerite's  stair- 
case, a  young  man,  a  black  case  in  his  hand,  came 
running  down  the  flight.  He  had  a  well-knit, 
well-carried  figure,  and  his  dark  face  was  clean- 
shaven. His  eyes,  rather  piercing  in  their  bright 
gaze,  shone  with  friendliness  as  he  recognized 
Katherine. 

"Why,  Dr.  McKnight,"  she  said,  as  he  lifted 
his  hat.  "Has  it  come  to  this!  " 

He  was  an  old  friend  of  Gilbert's,  but  his 
absence  while  getting  his  medical  education  had 


'  KAT11KR  INK'S    FIRST   LESSON.  39 

sufficiently  estranged  him  to  make  her  shy  of  call- 
ing him  "Jasper"  in  the  old  way.  She  had  taken 
refuge  in  his  title  on  the  occasions  of  meeting  him 
since  his  return  to  Montaigne.  "  I  'm  told  all  the 
girls  in  town  run  here,"  she  added,  as  she  shook 
hands  with  him,  "but  I  didn't  suspect  that  the 
men  had  begun." 

"That  is  good  news,"  he  answered.  "I  didn't 
know  my  lucky  star  had  led  me  to  select  such 
a  popular  situation.  What  is  the  attraction? " 
The  young  man  looked  vaguely  back  up  the  pas- 
sage-way. 

"Hats.  The  prettiest  hats  in  Montaigne.  New 
York  has  none  prettier,  I  am  told." 

"Good!  The  only  trouble  is,  young  ladies  are 
so  sure-footed.  I  'm  afraid  none  of  you  will  ever 
roll  down  those  stairs  and  require  a  physician." 

"Has  Dr.  McKnight  an  office  here?"  Kath- 
erine  looked  surprised. 

"Yes,  my  shingle  will  be  out  soon." 

"I  thought  you  were  with  Dr.  Granbury,  in 
North  Montaigne." 

"I  am;  but  I  am  going  to  start  an  office  here 
without  giving  up  the  other." 

"Very  well.  I  hope  the  milliner  across  the 
hall  will  be  a  mascot  to  you  unconsciously." 

"Thank  you.  That  is  a  dubious  wish  for  her 
customers,"  and  laughingly  the  two  parted. 

Katherine  ran  upstairs  to  the  room  which  a 
hum  of  voices  assured  her  she  should  not  to-day 
find  empty.  Entering,  she  saw  a  couple  of  ladies 


40  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

in  close  conference  with  the  gray-clad  young  wo- 
man, who  bowed  to  her  and  indicated  a  chair. 
The  slight  gesture  was  made  with  the  air  of  a 
hostess,  and  Katherine,  seating  herself,  found 
entertainment  in  watching  the  milliner  as  she 
rearranged  with  artistic  hand  the  bonnet  which 
the  elder  of  the  women  was  trying  on.  The 
pair  departed  at  last  with  gratified  smiles,  and 
Marguerite  approached  Kate. 

"You  have  come  to  work?"  she  asked,  with 
grave  courtesy.  "Kindly  step  this  way." 

The  girl  followed  into  the  little  room  next  the 
parlor,  where  was  a  litter  of  feathers,  ribbon, 
velvet,  wire,  bonnet-frames,  etc.,  among  whose 
confusion  Marguerite,  herself  looking  like  the 
high-priestess  of  order,  seated  herself,  drawing 
forward  a  chair  for  Katherine  at  the  same  time. 

For  some  reason,  inexplicable  to  herself,  the 
latter  felt  it  to  be  an  exciting  experience  to  be 
closeted  thus  with  her  grave  companion. 

"This  looks  business-like,  Mademoiselle,"  she 
said,  as  she  removed  her  jacket. 

"It  is  a  busy  time.  You  remembered  your 
thimble,"  as  Katherine  drew  one  from  her  pocket. 
"That  is  usually  forgotten.  See,  I  have  learned 
to  keep  a  little  box  of  them  here." 

"I  am  attached  to  my  own  thimble,"  returned 
Katherine,  as  she  opened  her  bag,  and  drew  forth 
the  materials  she  had  been  directed  to  bring. 

Her  teacher  set  her  a  task  to  do,  carefully  ex- 
plaining each  step. 


KATHERINE'S  FIRST  LESSON.  41 

"How  well  you  speak  English,"  said  Katherine, 
when  she  began  to  sew.  She  looked  up  as  she 
spoke,  and  thought  she  again  saw  a  suggestion  of 
amusement  ii>  the  firm  lips. 

"I  am  often  told  that,"  answered  the  milliner 
quietly. 

She  evidently  did  not  welcome  conversation, 
perhaps  it  was  because  she  was  so  busy.  Her 
hands  flew  deftly  in  and  out  the  bonnet-frame  she 
was  covering  with  velvet.  Kate  could  not  refrain 
from  casting  frequent  furtive  glances  at  her  com- 
panion's attractive  face,  since  the  downcast  lids 
made  it  possible  to  do  so,  unobserved.  It  was  a 
pure,  cold  countenance,  which  suited  the  severely 
simple  gown,  and  Kate  wondered  if  it  never 
warmed  into  the  life  and  gayety  suited  to  its  own- 
er's youth;  wondered  whether  the  days  of  this 
woman,  perhaps  little  older  than  herself,  were  all 
work  and  no  play.  Indeed,  curiosity,  but  kindly 
curiosity,  was  the  main  sentiment  in  Miss  Or- 
mond's  breast  as  she  plied  her  needle.  She  finally 
spoke  again :  — 

"I  just  met  a  friend  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs, 
a  doctor,  who  says  he  has  taken  the  room  across 
from  you,  Mademoiselle." 

"Indeed?  The  building  is  filling  up.  It  is  in 
a  good  situation."  Silence  again,  and  to  Kather- 
ine a  baffling  silence.  She  would  have  liked  to 
ask:  Have  you  parents'?  Where  do  they  live? 
Do  you  live  in  this  flat,  and  if  so,  who  lives  here 
with  you?  and  this  would  have  been  but  the  be- 
ginning of  her  catechism. 


42  THE     WISE    WOMAN. 

"That  is  a  very  pretty  young  girl  you  have  to 
assist  you.  I  saw  her  here  the  other  day." 

"Yes,  Lucia  is  handsome.  Make  that  turn 
just  a  little  deeper,  Miss  Ormond." 

Katherine  obeyed. 

"She  is  clever,  too,"  went  on  Marguerite. 
"She  has  good  judgment,  and  can  assist  the  other 
girls  in  my  absence." 

"Do  you  go  away? "  Katherine  looked  up. 
Perhaps  she  was  going  to  learn  something. 

"Only  as  far  as  this.  It  would  not  be  pleasant 
for  you,  for  instance,  to  spend  this  hour  in  the 
work-room." 

"Oh,  I  see.  You  give  lessons  in  this  room. 
Do  you  really  believe  you  can  teach  us  your  style, 
your  knack,  or  whatever  it  is?" 

The  milliner  bowed  slightly  without  looking  up. 
"That  will  have  to  be  proved.  I  shall  teach  you 
all  I  can." 

"I  won't  be  frozen,"  thought  Katherine. 

"I  am  not  sure,"  she  answered  aloud,  "but  that 
you  will  be  like  a  woman  we  met  in  the  country 
last  summer,  who  made  such  delicious  corn-bread 
that  my  mother  begged  her  for  her  recipe.  She 
was  very  obliging,  and  said  she  should  be  pleased 
to  give  it  to  her,  so  mother  got  out  a  paper  and 
pencil,  and  the  woman  proceeded  to  explain  that 
she  took  three  or  four  handfuls  of  corn  meal, 
sometimes  more  and  sometimes  less.  Then  she 
poured  in  milk,  about  the  right  quantity,  and 
stirred  it  '  to  a  consistuency,'  and  she  was  going 


KATHERINE' 8  FIRST  LESSON.       43 

on,  but  mother  stopped  her.  She  concluded  that 
when  she  wanted  that  particular  corn  bread,  only 
this  woman  could  make  it;  and  I  suspect  that 
when  we  want  a  Mademoiselle  Marguerite  hat  we 
may  have  to  come  to  you  for  it  just  the  same, 
after  all  our  labor.  A  great  and  subtle  thing  is 
knack." 

The  milliner  glanced  up  at  Katherine.  Her 
manner  was  different  from  that  of  the  pupils  she 
had  so  far  had  to  deal  with. 

"Wasn't  it  a  strange  thing  for  you  to  offer  to 
do,  • —  an  unusual  thing?  "  pursued  Katherine. 
"Supposing  me  to  be  wrong,  and  that  you  can 
impart  your  ability,  are  n't  you  killing  the  goose 
that  lays  the  golden  eggs?  " 

Marguerite  gave  her  a  smile  which  lit  her  face 
and  made  it  mischievous. 

"You  see  I  do  not  quite  kill  my  geese,"  she 
answered  quietly.  "As  you  just  remarked,  they 
may  fly  back  to  me  occasionally.  At  worst,  Mon- 
taigne is  a  large  place,"  she  continued,  serious 
again.  "When  I  have  exhausted  it,  I  can  move 
on." 

"I  see  you  have  thought  it  all  out,  Mademoi- 
selle." 

The  milliner  leaned  forward,  and  taking  Kath- 
erine's  work  from  her  hands,  was  showing  her  how 
to  take  the  next  step  when  the  door  of  the  show- 
room opened,  a  man's  tread  crossed  the  floor,  and 
a  masculine  voice  spoke  Marguerite's  name  as  a 
hand  half  drew  aside  the  portiere  in  the  doorway. 


44  THE    WISE    WOMA.\. 

"Excuse  me,"  said  the  milliner  hastily,  and 
rising  she  hurried  out  to  the  adjoining  room. 
Katherine  heard  a  low  murmur  of  conversation 
followed  by  a  happy  exclamation. 

"Oh,  Fritz!" 

The  tone  was  so  intense,  that  involuntarily 
Miss  Ormond  looked  up.  The  half-drawn  por- 
tiere revealed  a  part  of  a  startling  tableau.  Mar- 
guerite's gray-clad  figure  was  clasped  in  a  man's 
arms.  There  was  no  mistake  about  that,  although 
only  a  portion  of  each  figure  was  visible.  Kath- 
erine crimsoned  to  the  tips  of  her  ears,  and  low- 
ered her  eyes  in  extreme  confusion. 

Fortunately,  more  murmured  conversation  fol- 
lowed, which  gave  her  cheeks  time  to  cool,  and 
by  the  time  the  man  had  taken  his  leave,  and  the 
milliner  returned  to  the  little  room,  Miss  Ormond 
flattered  herself  that  her  appearance  was  calm  and 
non-committal.  After  the  subsiding  of  the  first 
flush  of  vexation  at  having  been  compelled  to  wit- 
ness the  ardent  embrace,  her  thoughts  took  a  new 
turn.  Here  was  an  explanation  of  Mademoiselle's 
tactics  which,  considering  her  youth  and  attrac- 
tiveness, might  have  occurred  to  Katherine  before. 
Naturally,  if  she  were  going  to  be  married,  she 
would  make  hay  while  the  sun  shone.  The  geese 
would  not  be  required  to  lay  golden  eggs  long. 
The  young  woman's  object  was  easy  enough  to 
comprehend  now.  She  merely  wished  to  make  all 
the  money  she  could  in  a  short  time.  Her  lover 
had  brought  her  good  news.  The  signs  of  it  were 


KATHERINE'S   FIRST  LESSON.  45 

still  obvious  in  the  fair  face  which  again  leaned 
over  Katherine's  work.  The  latter  looked  with 
still  greater  curiosity  and  interest  at  the  smooth, 
well-kept  hair,  and  the  high  shell  comb  whose  red- 
brown  lights  matched  it  in  color. 

The  milliner  did  not  appear  to  concern  herself 
with  a  doubt  as  to  how  much  or  little  of  her  recent 
interview  had  been  intelligible  to  her  pupil.  Their 
relation  was  in  her  eyes  evidently  so  entirely  a 
business  one,  that  Katherine's  friendly  nature  was 
a  little  piqued,  and  she  went  home  at  last  dis- 
creetly silent  as  to  the  details  of  her  experiences, 
but  laughingly  announced  at  the  dinner-table  that 
her  subjugation  to  the  gray  lady 's  wiles  was 
deeper  than  before. 

Mankind  loves  a  lover  even  when  she  happens 
to  be  a  humble,  industrious  milliner,  working 
from  sun  to  sun  to  earn  her  trousseau  in  addition 
to  her  daily  bread;  and  Katherine,  the  next  time 
she  found  herself  sitting  opposite  her  teacher  in 
the  little  room,  stole  many  a  glance  at  the  latter, 
studying  her  with  "Fritz's"  eyes.  She  had  not 
caught  a  satisfactory  glimpse  of  that  individual, 
but  he  had  a  tall  figure  and  a  deep,  pleasant  voice, 
and  Marguerite,  whatever  might  be  the  quality  of 
her  nature,  had  a  face  which  would  grace  any 
environment. 

"I  do  hope  she  will  be  married  in  white," 
thought  Miss  Ormond,  "and  I  wish  I  might  put 
on  her  veil." 

The  milliner,  looking  up,  was  surprised  at  the 


46  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

gaze  she  encountered  in  her  pupil's  eyes;  and 
Katherine,  recalled  from  her  day-dream,  went  at 
her  work  again  in  considerable  confusion.  She 
began  talking  at  random,  but  in  such  amiable 
fashion  that  it  could  not  fail  to  make  a  friendly 
impression  upon  her  companion. 

The  latter  became  drawn  at  last  into  general 
conversation;  and  at  their  third  lesson  she  sur- 
prised Katherine.  "Why  do  you  call  me  Made- 
moiselle?" she  asked.  It  was  the  first  question 
she  had  ever  put  to  her  pupil,  aside  from  business. 

"Because  every  one  does,"  answered  the  girl. 

"Not  to  my  face,"  said  Marguerite,  with  the 
demure,  amused  look  Miss  Ormond  had  learned  to 
recognize. 

"What  do  they  say,  then?  " 

"'  Marguerite,'  usually." 

Katherine  shook  her  head,  and  her  eyes  twin- 
kled. "I  couldn't  think  of  being  so  disrespect- 
ful. I  much  prefer  Mademoiselle." 

"Yet  I  have  no  right  to  that  title." 

"Why  not,  since  you  are  French?  " 

"Oh,  but  I'm  not  French."  The  milliner's 
busy  fingers  worked  away  as  she  talked. 

"But  Marguerite" 

"Certainly.  It  is  a  French  name,  but  one 
which  Americans  adopt  quite  frequently.  I 
thought  best  to  utilize  that  little  bit  of  capital, 
since  I  happened  to  have  it." 

Katherine  stopped  working,  and  regarded  her 
with  interest. 


KATHERINE'S   FIRST  LESSON.  47 

"I  see;  but  since  it  is  all  the  name  you  give 
people  to  know  you  by  "  She  paused. 

"Precisely." 

"Then  do  you  expect  me  to  call  you  Margue- 
rite?" 

The  milliner  met  Miss  Ormond's  friendly  eyes 
with  a  look  in  which  there  was  the  dawn  of  friend- 
liness. "You  are  different,"  she  answered.  "I 
believe  it  would  not  give  you  the  same  satisfaction 
it  does  most  women." 

"I  suspected  you  were  clever,"  said  Katherine, 
forgetting  her  work  and  continuing  to  gaze,  though 
her  companion's  fingers  were  flying  again. 

"I  had  to  succeed,"  returned  the  latter  senten- 
tiously. 

Her  pupil  nodded.  "So  you  suppressed  half 
your  name,  for  one  thing;  but  you  are  going  to 
tell  it  to  me?" 

"Certainly,  if  you  wish.     It  is  Laird." 

"  And  Miss  Laird  knew  it  would  be  more  attrac- 
tive to  be  neither  addressed  nor  dressed  like  other 
people,"  ventured  Katherine. 

A  swift  flush  passed  over  the  other's  face. 

"The  dress  is  convenient,"  she  answered,  smil- 
ing, "but  you  are  right." 


CHAPTER  IV. 
KATHERINE'S  MISSTEP. 

"I  THINK  you  need  a  chaperone  during  your 
visits  to  Marguerite,"  said  Madeline  to  her  sister 
one  day  soon  after.  "You  are  actually  beginning 
to  quote  her.  You  are  a  dangerously  sociable 
creature,  Katherine.  Please  remember  your  mis- 
sion there  is  to  make  hats,  not  friends." 

"  Fou  please  remember  that  I  am  hypnotized 
and  not  responsible,"  was  the  lofty  response. 

Katherine  Ormond  had  the  enviable  quality  of 
being  interested  in  people.  It  was  as  impossible 
for  her  to  be  bored  as  it  would  be  for  a  sparkling, 
bubbling  spring  to  grow  stagnant.  Her  interest 
in  her  new  acquaintance  grew  with  the  days, 
although  she  learned  nothing  more  definite  about 
her  than  that  she  was  Miss  Laird,  and  had  been 
working  at  millinery  for  three  years.  They  grew 
to  be  quite  talkative  together  on  general  topics, 
and  Katherine  sometimes  prolonged  her  stay  after 
her  work  had  been  put  away. 

One  afternoon  in  especial  she  lingered  until  the 
street  lamps  were  lighted  in  the  early  evening. 

"I  must  go!"  she  exclaimed  at  last.  "Why, 
it  is  dark  already.  Good-by,"  and  hurrying  out 


KATHERINE'S   MISSTEP.  49 

the  door,  she  started  to  run  downstairs.  She  had 
descended  perhaps  a  third  of  the  way,  when  the 
heel  of  her  boot  caught  on  a  step.  She  stumbled, 
and  would  have  pitched  headlong  had  there  not 
been  a  rail  which  she  grasped,  and  thus  saved 
herself.  She  had  turned  her  ankle  severely, 
though,  and  the  pain  of  it  made  her  catch  her  lip 
between  her  teeth,  while  swiftly  there  recurred  to 
her  Jasper  McKnight's  mock  regret  at  the  sure- 
footedness  of  Marguerite's  customers. 

She  tried  to  take  another  step,  and  the  conse- 
quence was  that  just  as  a  man  turned  in  at  the 
entrance  and  began  to  ascend  toward  her,  Miss 
Ormond,  with  a  stifled  exclamation,  ignominiously 
sat  down  on  the  stairs. 

"Is  anything  the  matter?"  asked  the  new- 
comer, pausing  when  he  reached  her. 

It  was  not  Dr.  McKnight,  as  for  one  moment 
she  had  hoped  it  might  be,  and  yet  the  deep  voice 
was  one  she  had  heard  before. 

"I  have  turned  my  ankle,"  she  answered. 

"Shall  I  get  you  a  carriage?  " 

Katherine  thought  a  moment.  She  was  nearer 
the  top  than  the  bottom  of  the  flight. 

"  If  I  could  get  back  to  the  room  at  the  head 
of  the  stairs  —  the  milliner's,"  she  said,  "I  could 
then  send  a  message." 

She  feared  to  try  to  get  to  a  carriage  and  go 
home  alone. 

"I  am  on  my  way  there.     Let  me  help  you." 

"It    is   Fritz!"    thought    Katherine,    suddenly 


50  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

remembering  the  voice  with  a  sense  of  relief. 
Fritz  as  Miss  Laird's  betrothed  was  so  frequently 
in  her  mind  that  he  scarcely  seemed  a  stranger. 

"Thank  you,"  she  answered,  putting  her  hand 
in  the  one  he  outstretched,  and  rising  upon  her 
unhurt  foot. 

Desperately  she  tried  to  make  the  other  support 
her  while  she  leaned  on  the  man's  arm  to  mount 
to  the  next  step ;  but  the  attempt  was  a  failure. 

"I  really  can't,"  she  said  softly,  a  catch  in  her 
breath. 

"There  isn't  the  least  need  of  your  trying," 
said  her  companion,  with  a  hearty  kindliness  of 
tone  that  was  very  reassuring ;  "  if  you  will  allow 
me"  — 

He  did  not  finish  the  sentence,  but  lifting  Kath- 
erine  easily  in  his  arms,  moved  quickly  upstairs, 
and  opening  the  milliner's  door,  walked  in. 

Marguerite  was  engaged  in  drawing  the  shades 
at  the  large  front  window,  and  as  one  stuck  and 
refused  to  run  easily,  she  spoke  without  turning 
her  head :  — 

"Is  that  you,  Fritz?" 

"And  it  is  I,  too,  Miss  Laird,"  answered  Kath- 
erine,  so  much  alive  to  the  absurdity  of  her  posi- 
tion that  she  smiled,  hiding  her  bright  eyes  in 
spite  of  the  nagging  pain  in  her  foot. 

Marguerite  turned  just  as  Katherine  was  being 
gently  lowered  upon  the  divan. 

"Miss  Ormond!  "  hurrying  forward  in  extreme 
surprise.  "What  has  happened?  " 


KATHERINE'S   MISSTEP.  51 

"I  turned  my  ankle  on  your  staircase." 

"And  my  brother  just  happened  to  come  up. 
How  fortunate! " 

Her  brother!  A  flush  overspread  Katherine's 
face ;  but  she  postponed  the  disappointment. 

"I  don't  know  what  I  should  have  done,  else. 
I  might  possibly  have  made  you  hear  by  shouting, 
but  I  should  have  been  far  more  likely  to  bring  the 
police.  I  thank  you  proportionately,  Mr.  Laird." 

He  stood  looking  down  at  her,  approving  her 
plucky  manner,  and  noting  the  pallor  into  which 
her  flush  faded.  He  did  not  resemble  his  sister 
except  in  the  dark  auburn  color  of  his  hair  and  a 
certain  concentrated  expression  of  the  eyes. 

"There  is  a  doctor  across  the  hall  whose  office 
hour  begins  very  soon,"  he  said.  "I  think  we 
had  better  get  your  shoe  off  and  wait  for  him." 

"No,  no.  I  must  go  home,"  returned  Kather- 
ine  hastily.  "Could  you  get  hold  of  a  messenger 
boy  about  here,  Mr.  Laird?  I'm  so  sorry  to 
trouble  you." 

"I  am  the  best  sort  of  a  messenger  boy  myself," 
he  said,  his  smile  and  speech  both  of  a  deliberate 
order.  "That  will  be  the  quickest  way." 

Katherine  demurred,  but  both  brother  and  sis- 
ter reassured  her,  so  she  scribbled  a  note  to  Gil- 
bert, and  Fritz  set  off  with  it,  leaving  with  Mar- 
guerite a  sharp  pocket  knife,  by  whose  aid  she 
began  the  removal  of  her  guest's  shoe. 

"Lucia,"  she  called,  and  the  swarthy  girl  ap- 
peared. 


52  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Bring  another  pillow,  please,  for  Miss  Or- 
mond." 

"I  don't  need  it,"  protested  Katherine,  regard- 
ing the  graceful  woman  kneeling  by  the  divan  and 
working  with  gentle,  deft  fingers  over  the  swelling 
ankle. 

But  Lucia  had  obeyed,  and  at  once  brought  the 
pillow,  smiling  as  she  received  Miss  Ormond's 
thanks. 

She  lingered  a  moment.  "  Everything  is  ready, 
miss,"  she  said  to  her  mistress. 

"Very  well;  you  may  go  then,  Lucia.  Have 
you  your  key  to  get  in,  in  the  morning?  Good 
night.  Don't  forget  that  bundle  for  your  mother." 

When  the  girl  had  limped  away,  Katherine 
spoke. 

"I  am  so  sorry  for  this.  I  know  I  am  keeping 
you  and  your  brother  from  your  dinner." 

Marguerite  shook  her  head  brightly.  "No,  we 
have  dinner  at  noon,  he  in  Newark,  and  I  here. 
Our  supper  comes  at  any  time  we  are  ready  for  it. 
Don't  regret  such  a  rarity  for  us  as  a  little  excite- 
ment. I  am  sorry  for  you,  but  you  mustn't  be 
sorry  for  us.  Oh,  I  know  how  it  hurts.  I  had 
a  sprained  ankle  once  myself,"  she  added,  with 
gentle  sympathy,  for  Katherine  winced  as  the 
shoe  finally  came  off  under  her  careful  handling. 
"  I  think  that  is  the  doctor  coming  up  now.  Shall 
I  not  call  him  in?" 

"No,  I  will  wait  until  Gilbert  —  until  my 
brother  comes.  I  hope  I  shall  not  need  a  doctor. 


KATHERINE'S    MISSTEP.  53 

How  cozy  this  room  becomes  at  night! "  Kather- 
ine  cast  a  glance  around  the  parlor,  in  which  its 
mistress  had  ingeniously  concealed  all  signs  of 
business. 

"I  am  glad  it  seems  so,"  returned  Miss  Laird. 
"Now  I  am  going  to  give  you  a  cup  of  tea.  If 
only  you  were  not  suffering,  how  much  I  should 
enjoy  entertaining  you." 

She  set  aside  a  tall  screen  in  the  corner  of  the 
room  and  drew  forth  a  tea-table.  "I  hope  you 
are  one  who  appreciates  this  beverage." 

"I  do  only  too  much,"  replied  Katherine. 

"That  is  good.  My  poor  brother  detests  it,  I 
am  certain;  but  he  drinks  it  every  evening  for 
sociability's  sake,  unless  I  am  very  indulgent  and 
make  coffee  instead." 

Miss  Ormond,  as  she  lay  on  the  divan,  an 
afgh.au  thrown  over  her,  enjoyed,  in  spite  of  the 
twinges  in  her  foot,  watching  the  movements  of 
her  hostess  as  the  latter  presided  at  the  little  table. 
She  wondered  what  Madeline  would  say  to  the 
situation.  There  was  no  longer  halo  either  of 
mystery  or  romance  enshrining  Marguerite  the 
milliner.  She  was  simply  an  energetic  American 
girl,  earning  an  income  which  prevented  her  from 
being  dependent  upon  the  brother  with  whom  she 
lived  in  this  flat;  and  yet,  in  spite  of  her  humble 
and  commonplace  condition,  the  fact  remained 
that  she  possessed  for  her  present  guest  an  at- 
traction stronger  than  that  of  any  girl  of  her 
own  set. 


54  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

At  least  Madeline  would  be  obliged  to  commend 
the  tea  which  Katherine  tasted  before  the  sound 
of  wheels  stopping  before  the  house  gave  her  hope 
that  her  brother  had  arrived. 

In  a  moment  the  door  opened,  and  a  blonde, 
anxious  face  appeared.  "Why,  Katherine!  " 
Gilbert  strode  forward,  followed  by  Fritz,  sedate 
and  composed,  as  usual. 

"Not  too  near;"  his  sister  put  forth  a  repres- 
sive hand.  "I  am  afraid  you  will  hit  my  foot. 
Miss  Laird,  let  me  introduce  my  brother,  Mr. 
Ormond.  Mr.  Laird's  acquaintance  I  suppose 
you  made  in  the  carriage.  I  mentioned  his  name 
in  the  note  he  was  so  very  kind  as  to  carry." 

Katherine 's  manner  was  empressee.  She  feared 
Gilbert  might  not  be  sufficiently  demonstrative; 
but  he  bowed  low  to  Maguerite,  and  then  turned 
toward  her  brother.  "I  have  thanked  Mr.  Laird 
sincerely.  We  are  greatly  indebted.  Now  what 
is  it,  little  girl?  What  have  you  done  to  your- 
self?" He  stooped  over  his  sister  with  concern. 

"  Only  sprained  my  ankle.  It  swelled  so  that 
Miss  Laird  has  taken  my  shoe  off;  and  all  I  want 
of  you  is  to  carry  me  to  the  carriage  and  keep  me 
from  being  hurt  all  the  way  home." 

Gilbert  met  the  rather  pale  smile  with  which 
the  speaker  regarded  him. 

"Yes;  but  McKnight  is  right  across  the  hall 
here.  Let  us  have  him  in  to  look  at  it  first." 

"No,  indeed,"  answered  Katherine  quickly. 
"You  might  go  and  telephone  to  Dr.  Granbury, 


KATHERINE'S   MISSTEP.  55 

then  he  would  be  at  our  house  nearly  as  soon  as 
we  are." 

"But  Dr.  McKnight  is  right  here." 

"Don't  bother  me,  Gilbert,"  with  a  coaxing 
lift  of  the  eyebrows. 

"That  thing  is  hurting  you  like  the  dickens," 
was  the  decided  rejoinder,  as  Ormond  noticed  the 
restless  movement  of  his  sister's  head  and  the 
manner  in  which  she  bit  her  lip.  "I'll  just  go 
in  and  ask  Jasper  what  the  prospect  would  be  of 
getting  Dr.  Granbury.  Now  be  sensible,  Kitty," 
he  added  in  an  undertone. 

She  seized  his  arm.  "Would  Mr.  Laird  ask" 
—  she  hesitated,  looking  up  into  Fritz's  face  as 
he  stood  waiting,  "then  Dr.  McKnight  need  not 
know  we  are  here.  He  is  our  friend,  not  our 
physician." 

"Certainly,  I  understand,"  said  Fritz,  and 
turning  away,  he  hastened  on  his  errand. 

"I  am  sorry  we  are  responsible  for  spoiling 
your  dinner,  Miss  Laird,"  said  Gilbert,  address- 
ing their  hostess,  who  still  sat  in  her  place  by  the 
pretty  tea-table,  making  a  picture  which  he 
thought  would  be  less  surprising  on  the  stage  than 
here  in  this  flat  on  Main  Street. 

"I  have  just  explained  to  your  sister  that  we  do 
not  dine  at  this  hour,  and  are  not  disturbed  in  our 
arrangements.  Won't  you  sit  down  while  you 
wait,  Mr.  Ormond?" 

Katharine  glanced  at  the  speaker.  This  was 
the  frigid,  courteous  woman  whom  she  had  first 


56  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

known,  and  who  kept  her  interlocutors  at  a  dis- 
tance. 

"This  is  such  good  tea,  Miss  Laird,"  she  said, 
draining  the  last  drop. 

Marguerite  pressed  her  civilly  to  take  a  second 
cup,  and  Katherine,  as  she  refused,  wondered  at 
the  changed  tone  and  manner  extending  even  to 
her. 

Fritz  opened  the  door  and  entered. 

"Dr.  McKiiight  says  that  by  this  time  Dr. 
Granbury  is  starting  to  assist  in  a  consultation  at 
Little  Mountain,"  he  announced. 

"Then  that  settles  it,  Katherine.  Let  us  have 
the  thing  bandaged  and  made  as  comfortable  as 
may  be.  The  motion  of  the  carriage  is  going  to 
hurt  you  at  best."  Ormond  rose.  "Thank  you 
again,  Mr.  Laird,"  and  without  waiting  for  any 
objections  from  his  sister,  he  disappeared  from 
the  room. 

Fritz  stood  regarding  Katherine  with  a  clouded 
expression.  "I  am  sorry  you  are  obliged  to  have 
a  fresh  annoyance,"  he  said. 

"It  is  a  small  matter,"  she  answered,  smiling. 
"A  doctor  doesn't  inspire  quite  the  same  confi- 
dence when  you  have  ridden  in  his  goat  wagon, 
that  is  all." 

In  a  surprisingly  short  time  Gilbert  returned, 
relief  depicted  on  his  countenance.  "McKnight 
will  be  here  in  five  minutes,"  he  announced. 

"And  now  I  am  sure  Miss  Laird  will  be  glad 
to  have  her  supper,"  said  Katherine,  turning  to  her. 


KATHERINE'S    MISSTEP.  57 

"Yes,  we  will  go  as  soon  as  I  have  found  out 
if  I  can  do  anything  for  the  doctor." 

Gilbert  Ormond  stood  facing  his  host.  "Each 
time  I  look  at  you,  Mr.  Laird,  I  am  struck  afresh 
by  a  resemblance  to  an  acquaintance  I  had  a  good 
many  years  ago.  He  was  a  red-haired,  round- 
faced  chap,  of  the  name  of  Sheldon;  but  the 
upper  part  of  your  face  is  so  like  that  boy  that 
each  time  I  catch  your  eye  it  seems  for  an  instant 
as  if  I  were  again  looking  at  Tom  Sheldon." 

"So  you  are,"  was  the  brief  answer. 

"What?"  Ormond 's  thin  skin  showed  the 
surprised  color  beneath  it. 

The  other  continued  quietly  to  return  his  gaze. 
He  would  not  make  an  advance,  but  waited  for 
his  cue. 

"Yet  your  name  "          Gilbert  hesitated. 

"Miss  Laird  is  my  half-sister.  Miss  Ormond 
jumped  at  a  conclusion."  The  speaker's  face  was 
still  non-committal.  Gilbert  might  make  some- 
thing of  the  old  friendship,  or  he  might  drop  it. 
Sheldon  did  not  move  a  hair's  breadth  toward 
cordiality,  but  stood  entirely  at  his  ease. 

Should  Gilbert  hesitate  longer,  his  status  at 
least  with  Tom's  sister  would  have  been  different 
ever  afterward,  no  matter  what  friendships  later 
events  might  have  called  into  existence;  but  he 
did  not. 

"You  didn't  remember  me,  then,  Tom,"  he 
said,  advancing  with  a  frank  smile  and  shaking 
hands  heartily  with  Sheldon. 


58  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"  Oh  yes,  I  did.  You  have  changed  less  than  I, 
I  fancy.  I  met  you  one  day  in  September  on  the 
street  in  Newark,  and  knew  you  at  once;  but  I 
saw  that  the  recognition  was  not  mutual."  A 
gratified  look  had  come  into  Sheldon's  pleasant 
eyes. 

Katherine  meanwhile  had  forgotten  aches  and 
pains  in  her  surprise  and  interest.  She  raised 
herself  slightly  as  she  listened  to  the  interview. 

"Do  you  remember  me  too,  Mr.  Sheldon?" 
she  asked. 

"Don't  I  remember  Uncle  Si's  little  Kitti- 
wake?"  he  responded,  turning  slowly  and  smiling 
at  her. 

"Why,  Miss  Laird,  did  you  know  this? "  Miss 
Ormond  suddenly  turned  toward  Marguerite.  A 
flush  had  come  into  the  latter's  cheeks,  as  she  sat 
motionless  by  her  table." 

"I  knew  my  brother  had  met  you  at  Pokonet." 

" You  call  him  Fritz?" 

"His  middle  name  is  Frederic.  I  have  always 
called  him  by  it." 

"Do  you  know  Pokonet?  " 

"I  was  there  a  week  in  August." 

"Why,  yes,"  returned  Katherine,  with  sudden 
remembrance.  "The  Hodgsons  told  me  about 
you.  They  said  you  had  snap." 

Miss  Laird  smiled,  and  at  that  moment  the 
doctor's  knock  was  heard. 

"Ah,  Dr.  McKnight,"  said  Katherine,  upon 
his  entrance,  "do  you  remember  your  speech  about 


KATHERINE'S    MISSTEP.  59 

sure-footed  girls?  You  must  have  cast  the  evil 
eye  on  me  that  clay.  Let  me  introduce  you  to 
Miss  Laird  and  her  brother,  Mr.  Sheldon." 

The  young  physician  acknowledged  his  intro- 
ductions and  approached  the  patient. 

"I  apologize  humbly,  Miss  Ormond.  Let  me 
see  what  compensation  I  can  make  at  this  late 
day." 

"I  will  go  to  supper,  Rita,"  said  Fritz,  and 
disappeared  behind  the  portiere. 

Miss  Laird  stood  by  while  the  doctor  made  his 
examination  of  the  swollen  ankle,  and  waited  upon 
him  with  a  quickness  of  wit  and  foresight  which 
won  his  admiration. 

"I  fear  you  have  snapped  something  in  there, 
Miss  Ormond,"  he  said  at  last. 

"Dear  me!  I  hope  not,"  returned  the  unfor- 
tunate. 

"What's  the  use  of  telling  her,  Jasper?"  said 
Gilbert,  asking,  in  his  impatience  of  his  sister's 
evident  pain,  a  very  pertinent  question;  whose 
pertinence,  however,  it  would  require  a  rare  phy- 
sician to  see. 

This  one  replied :  "  Because  she  must  be  care- 
ful, and  patient,  and  not  try  to  use  this  foot  too 
soon." 

"Soon!  Great  Scott,  the  poor  child  doesn't 
need  any  advice  not  to  walk  around  on  that  cush- 
ion in  a  hurry." 

"Stop  calling  my  foot  names,"  said  Katherine. 

"I    think  this    will   be   best   for  you  to  wear 


60  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

home, ".said  Marguerite,  offering  a  blue  bedroom 
slipper  which,  when  its  soft  crocheted  wool  was 
stretched  over  the  bandages,  made  a  spectacle  that 
caused  poor  Katherine's  eyes  to  disappear  between 
her  lashes,  suffering  though  she  was. 

"Now  then,  my  lady,  the  carriage  waits,"  an- 
nounced Gilbert. 

"Do  you  need  Fritz?"  asked  Miss  Laird,  and 
at  the  word  her  brother  appeared  from  the  adjoin- 
ing room. 

"We  don't  need  Mr.  Sheldon,"  said  the  doctor. 
"Mr.  Ormond  and  I  can  make  an  armchair  to 
the  carriage." 

"But  can  you  go  all  the  way,  Dr.  McKnight?" 
asked  Fritz.  "I  suppose  Mr.  Ormond  might  like 
assistance  at  the  other  end  of  the  route." 

"Surely,"  said  the  doctor.  At  the  same  mo- 
ment a  door  opened  across  the  hall.  "Some  one 
is  going  into  the  office  now,  and  my  hour  is  not 
over." 

"Then  go  right  on,  Jasper,  since  Sheldon  is  so 
kind.  Don't  let  us  detain  you." 

"Very  well."  Turning  to  Katherine,  the  doc- 
tor smiled.  "I  suppose  you  would  like  to  see  Dr. 
Granbury  to-morrow.  I  will  tell  him.  I  hope 
you  will  pass  a  tolerably  comfortable  night,  and  I 
think  you  will." 

Kate  shook  hands  with  him  and  thanked  him. 

"Now  for  an  armchair,  Sheldon,"  said  Gilbert, 
offering  his  wrist. 

The  other  looked  down  at  him  dubiously.     The 


K AT H BRINE'S   MISSTEP.  61 

difference  in  their  height  was  not  so  noticeable 
until  they  stood  close  together  thus,  for  both  were 
well-proportioned . 

"It  will  be  a  little  one-sided,"  he  suggested,  as 
they  made  the  seat.  "If  Miss  Ormond  would 
allow  it,  perhaps  one  of  us  could  carry  her  down 
more  comfortably."  , 

"  Certainly.  I  can  do  it  as  easily  as  turn  my 
hand  over,"  said  Gilbert  with  alacrity.  "Just 
open  the  door  for  me,"  and  he  turned  toward 
Katherine,  who  protested  with  sudden  vigor. 

"No,  no.  Oh,  I  couldn't  let  you,  Gilbert.  I 
am  afraid  of  that  long  staircase." 

"  Come  now,  Katherine.  I  'in  not  so  big  as 
Tom,  but  my  muscle  is  all  right." 

"  Give  me  the  armchair,  no  matter  how  lopsided 
it  is,"  said  poor  Katherine.  "Indeed,  the  crook- 
eder  the  more  appropriate  for  this  occasion." 

"Then  good  night,  Miss  Laird."  Gilbert 
turned  to  Marguerite.  "Thank  you  very  much 
for  your  hospitality." 

In  a  minute  more  Katherine  was  seated  on  her 
perch. 

"Our  hats,"  said  Tom.  "I  forgot  them.  Just 
put  our  hats  on,  will  you,  Rita?" 

She  laughed  as  she  obeyed,  receiving  Mr.  Or- 
mond's  grateful  glance  as  she  fixed  his  Derby  on 
his  head.  Then  she  opened  the  door,  and  they 
squeezed  carefully  through  it,  the  blue-clad  foot 
aching  in  all  its  dimensions  in  the  uncomfortable 
position. 


62  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"This  is  worse  than  riding  on  a  camel  at  the 
World's  Fair!"  groaned  Katherine.  "Thank 
heaven  for  the  cover  of  the  darkness.  Good 
night,  Miss  Laird.  When  shall  I  ever  come  up 
these  stairs  again! " 


CHAPTER  V. 
FIRESIDE   CONFIDENCES. 

MRS.  ORMOND  and  Madeline  threw  wide  their 
door  as  a  carriage  stopped  before  the  house. 

"That  man  who  came  for  Gilbert  is  coming 
back  with  them,  I  believe,"  said  the  former. 
"They  have  Katherine  in  an  armchair.  That 
poor  child!  " 

"Good  evening,  friends,"  said  the  latter,  as  she 
was  borne  tip  the  steps.  "  I  would  rather  be  pic- 
turesque than  President.  Move  away,  Madeline. 
My  foot  must  have  room  to  get  into  the  house." 

"How  did  you  do  it?  What  have  you  done?" 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Ormond. 

"Where  shall  we  take  her?"  asked  Gilbert, 
pausing  in  the  hall.  "The  circumstances  are  a 
little  trying  for  an  introduction,  but  my  compan- 
ion in  misery  here  is  Mr.  Sheldon,  mother;  my 
sister,  Mr.  Sheldon.  We  will  take  a  more  con- 
venient season  for  reminiscence,  but  I  dare  say 
you  will  both  remember  Mr.  Hodgson's  nephew 
at  Pokonet."  Fritz's  grave  countenance  broke 
into  an  irrepressible  smile  as  he  bowed  in  his 
hampered  position,  and  Madeline's  fair  face  col- 
ored high  in  her  surprise  at  the  identity  of  her 
sister's  bearer. 


64  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Now  then,  which  way?"  continued  Gilbert. 
"Is  Katherine  to  go  to  her  own  room?  I  don't 
think  we  can  squeeze  up  there  in  this  shape." 

"No,  bring  her  to  the  pink  room,"  said  Mrs. 
Ormond.  "  If  she  is  to  be  laid  up  with  a  sprain, 
it  will  be  easier  all  around." 

So  through  the  parlor  the  cortege  moved  to  the 
guest-chamber  beyond,  and  once  there  the  men 
deposited  Katherine  upon  its  divan,  where  she 
sank  with  a  sigh  of  relief. 

"I  am  glad  your  painful  peregrinations  are 
over,  Miss  Ormond,"  said  Sheldon. 

"I  thank  you  for  your  help,"  she  answered 
gratefully,  putting  out  her  hand.  "I  don't  know 
what  we  should  have  done." 

Her  lips  were  pale,  and  Fritz  saw  it.  He 
pressed  her  hand,  murmured  some  hope  for  her 
recovery,  and  started  precipitately  to  retreat. 

"Pardon  me,  if  I  remain  with  my  daughter, 
Mr.  Sheldon.  We  are  greatly  indebted  to  you." 
Mrs.  Ormond  bowed  to  the  young  man  with  for- 
mal politeness,  and  turned  back  to  the  couch. 

"You  have  been  a  friend  in  need,  Sheldon," 
said  Gilbert  heartily,  as  they  returned  to  the 
parlor.  "It  is  an  old  trick  of  yours  which  you 
haven't  forgotten  yet.  Won't  you  sit  down?" 

Fritz  turned  and  glanced  at  Madeline,  who  had 
followed  in  a  lingering  and  perfunctory  man- 
ner, examining  Sheldon  meanwhile.  There  were 
no  signs  of  the  grimy  workman  about  her  old 
admirer. 


FIRESIDE    CONFIDENCES.  65 

His  look  seemed  to  force  her  to  say  something. 
"I  am  sure  I  should  not  have  known  you,"  she 
declared  lightly.  "  How  much  a  moustache  alters 
a  man's  face! " 

"Yes"  — 

"Why,  come  right  out  to  dinner,  Sheldon," 
interrupted  Gilbert  suddenly.  "This  fracas  put 
it  out  of  my  head  that  we  are  as  hollow  as  drums, 
both  of  us." 

"Thank  you,  I  can't.  My  sister  will  wait  for 
me." 

"Oh,  in  that  case,  of  course.  Well,"  as  the 
guest  moved  into  the  hall,  "good  night,  then. 
When  your  sister  falls  down  those  stairs,  send  for 
me,  will  you?  "  asked  Gilbert,  as  he  and  Made- 
line followed. 

Fritz  gave  the  deliberate,  good-humored  smile 
that  showed  his  strong  white  teeth.  "I  don't 
make  much  of  carrying  Rita  about,"  he  answered, 
and  what  in  another's  mouth  might  have  sounded 
like  a  boast  was  in  his  modest  deprecation. 
"Good  night."  He  was  gone  with  a  bow  and  the 
same  pleasant  glance. 

"It  is  a  fact,  too,"  said  Gilbert  admiringly, 
when  the  door  had  closed  behind  him.  "He  's  a 
splendidly  built  fellow.  Why,  what  do  you  think ! 
His  sister  is  my  beauty."  Gilbert  walked  back 
toward  the  dining-room,  his  arm  around  Made- 
line. 

"Your  beauty?" 

"Yes;  that  stunning  stranger  I  have  mentioned 


66  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

to  you.  I  have  seen  her  occasionally  on  the 
street,  and  couldn't  find  any  one  who  knew  who 
she  was." 

"Oh  yes;  I  remember  your  enthusiasm  over 
a  tailor-made  creature  in  black,  with  a  perfect 
complexion;  but  I  don't  pay  too  much  attention 
to  your  ravings.  This  evening's  performances 
have  mystified  me  completely.  I  must  go  to 
Katherine." 

"No,  mother  is  with  her.  I  need  you  to  look 
at  while  I  am  eating  dinner.  I  suppose  I  am  not 
to  go  dinnerless  to  bed,  am  I?  " 

"Poor  boy,  to  be  sure  you  must  be  fed." 

Madeline  seated  him  at  table  and  rang  for  the 
maid. 

"Now  I  will  stay,  provided  you  won't  be  man- 
nish, but  will  tell  me  everything  just  as  Kather- 
ine would.  She  was  at  the  milliner's,  wasn't 
she?  And  I  suppose  she  sprained  her  ankle  on 
those  stairs;  then  where  in  the  world  did  she  pick 
up  Tom  Sheldon?" 

"She  didn't.  He  picked  her  up  in  his  manly 
arms  and  trotted  upstairs  with  her.  Otherwise  she 
assures  me  she  should  be  sitting  on  that  staircase 
yet." 

"But  what  was  he  doing  there?" 

"Going  home  to  eat  supper  with  my  beauty." 

"Oh,  they  live  in  that  building." 

Ormond  finished  his  soup  and  accepted  the 
more  substantial  course  which  the  maid  set  before 
him. 


FIRESIDE    CONFIDENCES.  67 

"Why,  certainly.  My  beauty  is  the  splendid 
creature  you  profanely  dub  the  milliner." 

"Marguerite!  "  in  large  capitals. 

Gilbert  nodded.     "  Lovely  Marguerite  Laird !  " 

"Tom  Sheldon's  sister?"  incredulously. 

"His  half-sister,  yes." 

"And  you  admire  that  Quakerish  woman's 
looks?" 

"Don't  tell  me  you  don't,  Madeline,  because  I 
shall  certainly  believe  you  jealous." 

"Me  jealous?  Jealous  of  a  person  like  that!" 
The  speaker's  cheeks  flushed  and  her  eyes  flashed. 
She  did  not  deign  to  pursue  the  subject.  "Well, 
Tom  Sheldon  being  her  brother  is  the  strangest 
coincidence  I  have  ever  heard  of,"  she  added  in  a 
moment,  thoughtfully.  "Katherine's  sprain  was 
a  blessing  in  disguise." 

"Why?" 

"Because  she  can't  go  there  any  more,"  rejoined 
Madeline  briefly.  "I  wish  I  hadn't  urged  her 
to  it  in  the  first  place.  If  I  had  taken  the  les- 
sons instead,  no  harm  would  be  done.  Why, 
she  has  actually  struck  up  a  friendship  with 
Marguerite." 

"Then  it  is  just  because  it  is  Katherine,"  re- 
turned Gilbert.  "  She  can  find  her  way  into  any 
heart.  From  what  I  saw  of  Tom's  sister  I  should 
judge  she  would  be  as  effective  a  refrigerator  as 
she  is  milliner." 

But  Gilbert's  view  of  Marguerite  Laird  had 
been  very  limited.  At  least,  if  he  could  have 


68  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

observed  her  an  hour  later,  as  she  sat  by  her 
brother  in  their  little  parlor,  he  would  have  given 
a  different  description  of  her. 

Fritz,  having  finished  his  supper,  sat  in  an 
armchair  before  the  fire,  and  his  sister,  beside 
him  on  a  lower  seat,  leaned  her  head  against  its 
arm. 

"It  was  to  be,"  she  said,  smiling  dreamily  at 
the  coals.  "I  thought  it  might  be  that  we  should 
live  here  all  winter,  and  they  would  never  find  you 
out." 

"It  won't  make  any  difference,"  he  answered. 

"No,  I  suppose  not." 

"I  wish  it  might  for  your  sake,  Rita.  Your 
life  is  very  dull." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir ;  my  life  will  never  be 
dull  so  long  as  you  come  home  to  me  every  evening. 
When  you  like  some  other  man's  sister  better,  it 
will  be  time  for  me  to  look  gloomily  into  the  coals 
in  solitary  state;  but  I  sha'n't  be  dull  even  then, 
Fritz;"  she  reached  up  her  hand  and  gave  his  a 
brief  squeeze;  "so  like  her  just  as  soon  as  you 
wish  to.  Myjife  is  n't  dull,  my  dear;  "  she  smiled 
reminiscently  as  she  spoke.  "Sometimes  I  think 
I  live  in  the  midst  of  a  comedy  all  the  time.  I 
mustn't  betray  the  secrets  of  the  prison-house, 
but  I  assure  you  my  trade  is  one  which  unveils  a 
woman's  pet  vanities,  little  tempers,  and  lack  of 
integrity  if  she  has  any,  and  on  the  other  hand 
exhibits  a  heroine  in  the  highest  light.  One  fact 
has  been  impressed  on  me  with  almost  piteous 


FIRESIDE    CONFIDENCES.  69 

intensity.  It  is  the  longing  all  women  have  to  be 
beautiful." 

Fritz  looked  down  on  his  sister's  thick  hair. 
"You  don't  seem  to  make  friends,  Rita,  not  in 
the  way  I  hoped." 

She  shook  her  head  gayly.  "  I  told  you  I  must 
choose  between  that  and  a  living,  and  I  chose  the 
living.  If  I  had  stayed  at  home  in  Michigan,  I 
could  have  kept  a  shop  and  been  in  society,  too. 
Had  I  been  a  society  girl  here  in  Montaigne  and 
met  with  reverses,  I  could  have  made  hats  for  my 
friends  and  not  lost  caste  with  the  best  of  them ; 
but  I  came  here  a  stranger,  and  you  had  n't  yet 
anything  to  depend  upon  except  a  head  full  of 
first-class,  hard-worked  brains,  and  I  determined 
not  to  be  too  modest;"  she  laughed  gleefully; 
"even  to  be  theatrical  if  I  chose  " 

"I  don't  like  your  name  like  that  on  the  win- 
dow. I  never  did." 

"Fritz,  my  child,  it  caught  twenty,  where 
'  Miss  Laird  '  would  have  caught  one.  The  upper 
ten  began  to  come.  They  saw  my  hats  and  were 
conquered.  They  like  me.  They  call  me  '  Mar- 
guerite '  as  they  would  address  a  maid  or  a  celeb- 
rity, and  are  happy.  Sometimes  an  old  lady  says 
'  my  dear, '  and  I  like  it ;  but  I  treat  them  all 
alike.  They  find  they  cannot  get  on  my  side  of 
the  barrier,  and  that  I  do  not  want  to  get  on 
theirs.  Oh,  I  am  as  wise  as  a  serpent,  but  as 
harmless  as  a  dove;  and  I  can  make  hats."  She 
rose  from  her  low  seat  with  quick,  flexible  grace, 


70  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

and  disappeared.  In  another  minute  she  stood 
before  Fritz,  an  evening  bonnet  of  turquoise  vel- 
vet and  airy  jet  upon  her  head. 

"There!" 

He  looked  up,  with  growing  admiration  in  eyes 
and  smile. 

"You  look  handsome,  Rita.  Is  it  that  velvet 
business  ?  " 

"Not  a  bad  compliment  from  a  slow-boots  like 
you."  She  resumed  her  seat,  the  bonnet  still  on 
her  head.  "Look  at  it.  Of  course  you  've  heard 
of  a  love  of  a  bonnet.  Well,  this  is  a  bright, 
particular  love.  No,  don't  touch  it." 

Sheldon  dropped  the  hand  he  had  raised.  "I 
was  just  going  to  turn  down  those  shiny  spikes  a 
little,"  he  said  meekly.  "They  're  pretty  high." 

"Profane  man!  Know  that  if  they  were  a 
fourth  of  an  inch  lower,  my  name  could  not  go 
out  with  the  bonnet.  Understand  that  this  is 
perfect.  Miss  Ormond  wants  to  copy  it  in  pale 
green  for  her  sister." 

Marguerite  rested  her  elbow  on  her  knee,  and, 
supporting  her  chin  on  her  hand,  looked  back  into 
the  fire. 

"I  never  knew,  Fritz,  why  you  warned  me  not 
to  mention  you  to  the  Ormonds.  You  said  they 
were  fashionable  people,  and  I  suspected  from 
your  manner  that  you  hoped  I  should  not  meet 
them  at  all." 

"No,  not  exactly  that,"  answered  her  brother 
slowly.  "I  did  not  care  to  make  any  capital  out 


FIRESIDE    CONFIDENCES.  71 

of  a  by-gone  acquaintance  formed  under  those 
circumstances;  in  fact,  I  had  burned  my  fingers 
already,  and  had  a  proper  respect  for  the  fire." 

"Tell  me  about  it." 

"Fingers  are  allegorical  in  this  instance.  It 
was  a  more  romantic  portion  of  my  anatomy  that 
was  singed." 

Marguerite  looked  startled.  "Did  she  affect 
not  to  know  you  then  to-night?  Can  she  be 
such  a  hypocrite?  And  I  liked  her  so  much!  I 
thought  her  so  different  from  the  others." 

"No,  no.  It  wasn't  your  Miss  Ormond.  It 
was  the  other  one." 

Marguerite  was  silent  a  minute.  "She  is  very 
pretty,"  she  said  at  last. 

"Yes,  but 

'  If  she  be  not  fair  for  me, 
What  care  I  how  fair  she  be.'  " 

The  old  couplet  was  spoken  so  cheerfully  that 
Marguerite  looked  up  hopefully. 

"How  long  ago,  Fritz?  " 

"Two  years." 

"Did  she  treat  you  well?  " 

Sheldon  smiled.  "I  should  have  to  look 
through  a  woman's  eyes  to  be  able  to  answer  that 
fairly." 

"Look  through  mine." 

A  low  laugh  broke  from  Fritz  as  he  regarded 
the  orbs  that  were  offered  him.  They  were  shin- 
ing with  such  stern  partisanship  that  he  saw 
Madeline  arraigned,  tried,  and  judged. 


72  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"They  are  strictly  impartial  ones,  I  suppose," 
he  said. 

Marguerite  drew  a  deep  sigh  of  relief.  "Your 
eyes  and  your  laugh  relieve  me  more  than  an 
hour's  talking,  my  dear.  You  are  entirely  over 
it." 

"Yes,  Rita,"  he  answered  seriously,  "but  the 
experience  bit  deep.  The  scar  is  there.  I  am 
inoculated  against  love.  Safe  to  wander  amidst 
all  the  rosebud  gardens  of  girls  in  existence. 
You  will  never  be, left  to  gaze  into  the  coals 
alone." 

Marguerite  leaned  her  cheek  against  his  shoul- 
der. "Then  some  woman  will  lose  the  dearest 
and  best  husband  that  could  be  created." 

They  were  silent  a  minute.  Silences  frequently 
fell  between  them  in  their  companionship,  such 
was  the  completeness  of  their  mutual  under- 
standing. 

"We  are  greatly  blessed,"  she  added  at  last. 
"I  really  believe  the  happiest  moment  of  my  life 
was  when  you  came  home  the  other  day  to  tell  me 
you  had  that  position  in  the  McKnight  works.  I 
went  back  to  Miss  Orrnond,  who  was  in  the  next 
room,  and  I  could  scarcely  keep  from  telling  her. 
She  has  such  sympathetic  eyes.  The  first  time  I 
saw  her,  she  attracted  me." 

"She  has  a  nice  face,  hasn't  she?  The  only 
time  I  saw  her  at  Pokonet,  I  was  too  shy  and 
homesick  to  say  half  a  dozen  words  to  her.  She 
was  a  busy  little  creature,  skipping  around  with 


FIRESIDE    CONFIDENCES.  73 

Uncle  Silas,  and  asking  thirty  questions  to  the 
minute."  Sheldon  paused,  and  became  thought- 
ful again. 

At  last  he  asked :  "  How  should  you  like  to  go 
out  of  business,  Rita?" 

His  sister  smiled  musingly.    "  Castle-building  ?  " 

"No;  in  earnest.  Shut  up  shop,  wear  all  the 
bonnets  yourself,  and  become  a  private  individ- 
ual." 

The  girl  laughed.  "Instead  of  the  great  and 
only  Marguerite!"  A  ruminative  frown  puck- 
ered her  white  forehead.  "I  might  consider  it," 
she  replied  seriously,  "but  there  is  a  red  bonnet 
in  stock  that  wouldn't  become  me.  Indeed,  there 
are  several  that  I  should  consider  much  too  gay. 
You  know  I  like  to  wear  black  in  the  street.  I 
shall  not  be  able  to  entertain  your  proposition, 
Mr.  Sheldon,  until  they  are  all  sold." 

"I  think  we  're  safe  enough  now,  Rita." 

"Listen  to  the  biggity  way  the  man  talks,  all 
on  account  of  that  McKnight  position! " 

"You  might  be  placed  in  a  pleasanter  social 
position  by  the  means." 

"Is  a  retired  milliner  more  respectable  than  an 
active  one?" 

"We  might  try  and  see,"  suggested  Fritz. 

"I  haven't  missed  anything  yet,"  said  his  sis- 
ter. "I  have  been  interested  in  making  a  busi- 
ness success,  and  in  helping  Lucia  and  her  family. 
Then  in  the  evening  there  are  the  quiet  chats  or 
jolly  larks  with  you.  Isn't  my  life  full?" 


74  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"I  believe  you  are  a  contented  human  being," 
he  answered,  regarding  the  frank  face  under  the 
fine  hat  which  she  had  totally  forgotten.  "They 
are  not  common." 

"Then  let  well  enough  alone,"  she  returned. 
"No  wonder  I  am  content,"  she  continued  after  a 
while.  "You  know  how  I  longed  to  come  to  you 
during  those  years  of  our  separation,  and  how  I 
feared  I  might  be  a  drag  upon  you,  so  you  can  see 
how  satisfying  is  the  present  safe  condition  of 
things.  You  are  where  there  is  a  chance  to  rise, 
and  we  can  pay  our  bills  as  it  is.  What  remains 
to  wish  for?" 

"I  'm  a  lucky  fellow,"  said  Fritz. 


CHAPTER  VI. 
A   PROFESSIONAL  VISIT. 

"DR.  GRANBURY  begs  you  to  accept  me  in  his 
place  this  afternoon,"  said  Jasper  McKnight,  pre- 
senting himself  beside  Miss  Ormond's  couch  a  few 
days  afterward. 

Madeline  had  ushered  him  into  the  room,  and 
now  stood  by. 

"Tell  the  truth,  Dr.  McKnight,"  she  saidwarn- 
ingly.  "Didn't  Dr.  Granbury  say:  '  Jasper,  you 
go  and  see  Kitty  Ormond's  foot  to-day.  I  'm  too 
busy!'" 

The  young  physician  laughed.  "Were  you  be- 
hind the  door  all  that  time,  Miss  Madeline?  It 
wasn't  fair.  You  ought  to  have  made  yourself 
known." 

He  drew  up  a  chair  beside  the  invalid. 

"How  goes  it,  Miss  Katherine?" 

The  girl  smiled  slightly.  "It  doesn't  go, 
much." 

"It  is  a  slow  trouble,  isn't  it?  but  I  see  you 
find  means  to  be  industrious  in  spite  of  your 
imprisonment. " 

"Industrious!"  Mrs.  Ormond  repeated  the 
word  she  had  caught  as  she  entered  the  room. 


76  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"How  do  you  do,  Jasper?"  greeting  the  young 
man,  who  rose  to  take  her  cordially  offered  hand. 
Mrs.  Ormond  was  not  the  only  mother  in  her 
circle  who  smiled  upon  Dr.  McKnight.  "I  wish 
you  would  tell  Katherine  not  to  be  so  indefatiga- 
ble. Perhaps  your  edict  will  have  more  weight 
than  mine ;  but  I  give  you  warning  that  the  habit 
of  a  lifetime,  even  of  a  short  lifetime,  cannot  be 
easily  overcome.  The  child  must  always  be  doing 
something." 

Katherine  lifted  her  eyebrows.  "  It  is  not  quite 
clear  to  me  whether  I  am  being  scolded  or  flat- 
tered," she  remarked,  brushing  aside  some  scraps 
of  ribbon  and  velvet. 

It  was  clear  to  Madeline,  however,  and  a  cloud 
of  displeasure  gathered  on  her  fair  brow  as  her 
mother  proceeded. 

"And  do  for  pity's  sake  put  something  on  that 
ankle  to-day  that  is  going  to  hurry  it  up,"  pro- 
ceeded Mrs.  Ormond.  "You  behold  in  me  a  most 
abused  individual.  I  actually  have  to  keep  my 
own  house  and  order  my  own  servants  and  meals ; 
and  that  is  work  that  I  have  been  so  free  from 
ever  since  Katherine  left  school,  that  I  am  spoiled. 
I  have  filled  my  time  up  with  different  things." 

"You  see  mother  quite  ignores  the  fact  that 
she  has  another  daughter,"  said  Madeline.  "I 
should  have  been  the  one  to  have  the  sprained 
ankle." 

"My  dear,  your  gifts,  like  my  own,  lie  in  other 
directions,"  said  Mrs.  Ormond,  noting  her  pretty 


A   PROFESSIONAL    VISIT.  77 

child's  vexation  and  hastening  to  attempt  to  ap- 
pease her.  "We  don't  pretend  to  be  born  with 
such  domestic  inclinations  as  Katherine's." 

This  well-meant  effort  was  not  entirely  success- 
ful. Madeline  found  herself  in  a  secondary  posi- 
tion, a  sort  of  novelty  which  failed  to  charm  her. 

She  leaned  her  elbow  on  the  he^,d  of  her  sister's 
divan.  "  I  think  the  youngest  child  is  always  at 
a  disadvantage,"  she  said  pensively,  and  the  doc- 
tor, lifting  his  eyes  from  his  bandaging,  found 
her  a  graceful  and  attractive  sight.  "No  one 
knows  what  serious  things  we  can  do,  and  no  one 
cares." 

"On  the  contrary,  Miss  Madeline,"  said  Jas- 
per, "  your  friends  have  unbounded  faith  in  your 
latent  possibilities,  and  as  for  not  caring  "  —  An 
eloquent  look  finished  the  sentence.  A  flourish- 
ing ball-room  flirtation  had  already  begun  between 
the  young  physician  and  the  beauty  of  the  Ormond 
family,  so  he  found  the  labor-saving  device  of  a 
glance  in  place  of  a  phrase  serve  his  turn  very 
well,  even  here  by  daylight.  i 

He  then  directed  a  different  but  still  unprofes- 
sional gaze  at  Katherine  and  the  mysterious  airy 
trifles  which  surrounded  her.  "Might  a  humble 
individual  inquire  what  in  the  world  you  are 
doing?"  he  asked. 

"Making  a  hat.  Don't  you  think  it  is  going 
to  be  pretty?  "  and  Katherine's  eyes  narrowed  and 
twinkled  as  she  put  the  uncovered  skeleton  on  her 
head  and  regarded  the  young  man.  The  effect 


78  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

was  grotesque,  and  Madeline  would  have  endured 
torture  before  she  would  have  thus  exhibited 
herself. 

"Now  don't  hurt  ine  by  saying  you  don't  like 
it,"  pursued  Miss  Ormond  feelingly,  regarding 
the  doctor,  her  head  on  one  side. 

"It  is  rather  airy  for  our  climate.  I  should 
prefer  a  Derby  for  myself;  but  I  suppose  it  isn't 
finished  yet." 

"Oh,  I  shall  add  one  or  two  little  touches." 

"I  thought  no  one  in  Montaigne  ventured  to 
make  hats  now  except  my  illustrious  neighbor 
Marguerite." 

"Oh,  but  she  is  dividing  her  mantle  among 
the  girls,  and  a  little  corner  of  it  has  fallen  on 
me." 

"Another  accomplishment."  Dr.  McKnight's 
dark  eyes  had  the  ability  to  express  deferential 
admiration  of  women  at  a  moment's  notice,  and 
they  rested  on  Katherine  now  with  a  wondering 
look  which  she  laughed  at  openly. 

"I  have  none,"  she  answered.  "No  weaknesses 
of  any  kind,  not  even  accomplishments.  Millinery 
is  a  serious  occupation." 

"Indeed  it  is,"  added  Madeline.  An  idea  had 
popped  into  her  head.  "Wait  a  minute,"  she 
said,  and  glided  from  the  room. 

Mrs.  Ormond,  who  had  seated  herself  near  a 
window  with  some  needlework,  laughed  indul- 
gently. "  What  idea  has  that  madcap  taken  into 
her  head  now?"  she  said.  "Really,  Jasper,  I 


A   PROFESSIONAL    VISIT.  79 

could  almost  believe  that  time  has  rolled  back,  and 
that  you  are  coming  in  to  play  with  the  children 
in  the  old  way." 

"He  and  Gilbert  didn't  condescend  to  play 
with  us  much,  I  recollect,"  remarked  Katherine. 

The  young  man  smiled.  "I  remember  being 
at  a  seashore  place  with  you  once  for  a  few  days 
as  Gilbert's  guest,  and  that  you  outswam  me, 
Miss  Katherine.  The  stinging  mortification  of 
that  moment  comes  back  to  me  even  now,  and 
makes  my  ears  tingle." 

"That  was  Pokonet,"  said  the  girl  joyously. 
"I  had  quite  forgotten  that  you  knew  Pokonet, 
Dr.  McKnight." 

"Up  you  go  in  Katherine's  estimation,"  re- 
marked Mrs.  Ormond  with  gentle  sarcasm. 
"Pokonet  is  her  shibboleth.  Learn  to  talk  about 
it  glibly,  and  ransack  your  memory  for  events 
there,  and  she  will  consider  you  a  most  interesting 
personage." 

"Then  I  certainly  shall"  -  the  doctor  was  say- 
ing, when  Madeline,  in  all  her  pliant,  conscious 
grace,  swept  back  into  the  room. 

Around  her  shoulders  was  a  winter  wrap  with 
fluffy  feathery  decorations,  from  which  her  golden 
head  rose,  crowned  with  a  picturesque  hat  nodding 
its  plumes  above  a  wavy  brim. 

She  dropped  an  exaggerated  courtesy,  rising 
with  flushed,  smiling  face. 

"This  is  a  private  view,  Dr.  McKnight,"  she 
announced  with  a  bewitching  pose.  "Katherine 


80  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

is  too  modest,  showing  the  framework  of  what 
is  to  be.  Now  I  ask  you,  can't  she  make  a 
hat?" 

Mrs.  Ormond  laughed,  to  cover  her  admiration 
of  her  pet,  and  the  physician  started  to  his  feet. 

"I  wish  I  were  a  photographer,"  he  said. 

"Oh,  don't  flatter  me.  It  is  Katherine,"  said 
the  young  girl,  exultantly  conscious  of  the  tendril- 
like  effects  of  her  blonde  hair,  and  the  fearlessness 
with  which  her  rose-leaf  skin  could  welcome  the 
sunlight  which  was  pouring  into  the  room. 

But  Dr.  McKnight  was  not  so  obtuse  as  to  turn 
his  attention  to  Katherine  at  this  moment.  He 
addressed  Mrs.  Ormond:  "You  should  have  Miss 
Madeline's  portrait  painted  in  that  costume,"  he 
said. 

"Do  you  think  so?  "  asked  the  mother  indiffer- 
ently. 

"You  see,"  said  Madeline,  taking  her  old  seat 
by  the  divan  and  slipping  back  the  richly  lined 
wrap,  "Katherine  was  very  considerate  in  the 
date  which  she  chose  to  cripple  herself.  She  had 
taken  all  the  lessons  of  Marguerite  except  one  or 
two,  hadn't  you,  Katherine?" 

"All  except  one,"  answered  the  other.  "I 
wish  she  would  come  and  see  me." 

"  You  mean  for  the  purpose  of  giving  you  the 
last  lesson,  my  dear?"  said  Mrs.  Ormond,  with 
a  certain  gentle  sonorousness  which  her  daughter 
accepted  as  a  warning.  Do  you  think  it  would  n't 
tire  you  too  much?  " 


A   PROFESSIONAL    VISIT.  81 

Katherine's  eyes  sought  the  doctor's  with  an 
expression  which  surprised  and  puzzled  him.  Un- 
consciously, Mrs.  Orraond  gave  him  the  clue. 

"It  appears  that  that  young  woman  Marguerite 
is  a  quite  intelligent  person,"  she  said.  "My 
daughter  takes  an  interest  in  her.  Moreover,  it 
seems  that  she  is  related  to  some  very  honest 
people  down  in  the  country,  at  this  very  Pokonet 
we  were  speaking  of  a  moment  ago,  who  kept  the 
farmhouse  the  children  found  such  a  paradise." 

"I  met  Miss  Laird  in  the  hallway  yesterday," 
said  Dr.  McKnight,  addressing  his  patient.  "  She 
inquired  for  you." 

Katherine's  expressive  eyes  brightened. 

"Of  course,  if  you  have  any  message  to  send 
her,  it  would  be  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world  for 
me  to  deliver  it." 

"No,  no,"  interposed  Mrs.  Ormond  hastily. 
"Katherine  would  not  think  of  imposing  upon 
you  a  task  which  would  take  you  so  far  out  of 
your  orbit.  We  will  find  other  means  to  send  a 
message." 

Katherine  said  nothing,  and  the  lids  fell  over 
her  clear,  tell-tale  eyes. 

"I  met  your  aunt  a  few  days  ago,"  pursued 
Mrs.  Ormond.  "  She  told  me  you  were  growing 
quite  busy.  I  congratulate  you." 

"It  is  a  little  early  for  congratulation,  I  assure 
you,"  returned  the  young  man.  "I  must  have  a 
few  gray  hairs  before  I  can  inspire  much  confi- 
dence." 


82  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"And  by  that  time  you  won't  be  so  desirable 
at  the  Assemblies,"  said  Madeline,  with  a  charm- 
ingly insolent  glance.  "Just  now  we  don't  want 
you  to  inspire  so  much  confidence  that  you  will  be 
professionally  engaged  during  the  evening." 

Dr.  McKnight  laughed  and  shook  his  head. 
"I  'm  afraid  I  shall  be  able  to  lead  many  a  Ger- 
man with  you  yet,  Miss  Madeline." 

The  girl  lifted  her  chin  in  mock  indignation. 
"Afraid!  Upon  my  word,  Dr.  McKnight!  I 
shall  know  what  to  do  with  your  next  invitation." 

Katherine  smiled  faintly  upon  the  physician  as 
he  was  leaving.  "Tell  the  Wise  Woman  she  has 
neglected  me  longer  than  usual,"  she  said. 

The  doctor  looked  at  her  curiously.  "What 
wonderful  bit  of  wisdom  was  it  which  earned  Aunt 
Edna  such  a  flattering  title  ?  " 

"No  one  thing.  Before  I  was  through  with 
my  fairy-tale  days  I  had  formed  the  habit  of 
carrying  perplexities  to  her,  and  I  became  struck 
with  the  resemblance  of  the  situation  to  that  of 
my  favorite  heroines,  each  one  of  whom  was  sure 
to  know  where  was  a  Wise  Woman  who  found 
the  way  out  of  every  dilemma  in  the  most  wonder- 
ful manner." 

"Usually  old  hags,  weren't  they?" 

"Yes;  and  my  Wise  Woman  proves  the  won- 
ders of  evolution.  Ask  her  to  come  soon." 

The  next  time  Madeline  Ormond  was  alone  with 
her  mother,  she  gave  vent  to  her  displeasure. 

"I  do  wish,"  she  said,  "that  you  wouldn't  take 


A   PROFESSIOXAL    VISIT.  83 

pains  to  imply  to  people  that  I  am  nothing  but  a 
lily  of  the  field/' 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Mrs.  Ormond. 

Her  daughter's  cheeks  were  flushed.  "Even  if 
you  would  like  to  make  a  match  between  Kath- 
erine  and  Dr.  McKnight,  you  needn't  do  it  at 
my  expense." 

"My  dear,  you  shock  me.  When  either  of  you 
girls  decides  to  leave  me,  I  shall  be  heart-broken. 
Pray  don't  suggest  my  hastening  the  catastrophe." 

"  If  we  never  did  leave  you,  you  would  be  heart- 
broken, and  you  know  it,  mother  mine,"  retorted 
Madeline  ruthlessly;  "but  I  object  on  general 
principles  to  having  people  told  that  I  am  of  no 
consequence  in  the  house." 

"There  is  no  danger  of  my  ever  giving  such  an 
untrue  impression,  my  love.  I  hadn't  the  most 
remote  intention  of  hurting  your  feelings.  Surely 
you  know  that  the  characteristics  I  was  referring 
to  in  Katherine  are  not  those  Jasper  McKnight 
would  particularly  look  for  in  a  wife.  What  does 
he  need  to  care  for  the  domestic  and  thrifty  vir- 
tues? What  he  wants  is  a  handsome  woman  to 
be  the  head  of  his  establishment  and  spend  his 
money  with  good  taste  and  judgment." 

Madeline  looked  thoughtful.  "I  wonder  if  that 
woman  will  have  to  be  under  Aunt  Edna's  sharp 
eyes  all  the  time.  I  shall  not  envy  her  if  she  is." 

"My  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Ormond,  with  dignified 
remonstrance,  "Miss  McKnight  surely  merits 
Katherine 's  name  for  her  sufficiently  to  withdraw 


84  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

gracefully  when  her  nephew's  wife  comes  home. 
She  is  no  dependent,  and  we  will  give  her  credit 
for  a  sense  of  propriety." 

"I  am  not  sure  that  she  likes  me,"  said  Made- 
line, regarding  her  mother  interrogatively. 

"Nonsense,  child.  Of  course  she  has  more  to 
say  to  your  sister  because  Katherine  is  fondest  of 
her;  but  she  has  known  all  my  children  from 
their  babyhood,  and  naturally  she  takes  an  inter- 
est in  you  all;  beside,"  Mrs.  Ormond  cast  a  fur- 
tive glance  at  her  daughter's  thoughtful  face,  "I 
do  not  know  that  it  is  of  very  great  importance 
whether  she  likes  you  or  riot.  I  am  certain  that 
Jasper  McKnight  has  a  mind  of  his  own.  Look 
at  his  chin." 

"Thank  you.  I  know  his  chin  well  enough," 
laughed  Madeline,  restored  to  good  nature.  "You 
needn't  try  to  marry  me  to  him  any  more  than 
Katherine,  mamma  dear." 

"I  beg  you  won't  make  such  remarks,"  said 
Mrs.  Ormond  coldly;  "I  don't  urge  you  to  marry, 
but  I  do  emphatically  urge  you  to  refrain  from 
marrying  a  man  whom  I  could  not  approve  as  I 
do  of  Jasper.  I  knew  him  in  knickerbockers,  and 
I  know  the  blood,  and  the  family  traits,  and " 
—  Mrs.  Ormond  was  going  to  say  position,  but 
she  substituted  "and  all."  She  sighed  heavily. 
"Every  mother  of  attractive  girls  has  my  sympa- 
thy. They  are  an  incessant  care!  " 

"And  comfort,"  added  Madeline,  caressing  her 
offended  parent.  "  What  possessed  Jasper  to  be 


A   PROFESSIONAL    VISIT.  85 

a  doctor?"  she  continued  discontentedly.  "I 
think  physicians'  wives  must  be  continually  an- 
noyed, never  being  certain  that  their  husbands  can 
go  with  them  anywhere.  He  didn't  need  to  earn 
his  living,  and  some  less  laborious  profession 
would  have  answered  just  as  well." 

She  made  somewhat  the  same  comment  to  her 
sister  later  in  the  day. 

"What  is  it  to  you  how  laborious  a  profession 
Dr.  McKnight  has  chosen?"  asked  Katherine, 
regarding  the  speaker  quizzically.  "Are  you  tak- 
ing a  sisterly  interest  in  Jasper?  Don't  do  it, 
Madeline.  You  know  if  you  do,  I  shall  have  him 
on  my  hands  shortly." 

Madeline  showed  her  pearly  teeth  in  a  little 
gratified  smile.  The  sisters  were  the  best  of 
friends,  for  Katherine's  honest  and  ungrudging 
admission  of  her  sister's  fascinations  was  sweet 
daily  food  to  the  younger. 

"I  suppose  some  time  I  shall  have  to  take  a 
serious  interest  in  somebody,"  said  Madeline,  with 
a  bored  air. 

Katherine  smiled.  "When  Prince  Charming 
stops  his  white  charger  under  your  window  and 
winds  his  mellow  horn,  there  won't  be  much  '  have 
to  '  about  it,  I  fancy." 

The  younger  sister  shrugged  her  shoulders. 
"No,  I  thank  you.  No  '  whistle  and  I  '11  come 
to  ye,  my  lad,'  for  me." 

"Indeed?  So  the  prince  must  throw  his  reins 
to  the  groom  and  come  clanking  into  my  lady's 


86  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

parlor.  Can  you  fancy  him  carrying  a  bag  con- 
taining bandages  and  liniment?  " 

"It  was  very  stupid  of  him  to  choose  that  pro- 
fession," returned  Madeline,  not  joining  in  her 
sister's  laugh,  but,  on  the  contrary,  allowing  a 
decided  cloud  to  gather  on  her  face. 

Katherine  grew  serious.  "You  don't  know  the 
first  tiny,  tiny  grain  about  what  love  is,  you  little 
girl,"  she  said,  after  a  grave  instant. 

"Indeed!  "  retorted  her  sister;  "and  are  you  so 
well  informed?  " 

"I? "  in  extreme  surprise.  "No,  indeed,  I 
know  nothing  of  it;  and, "added  Katherine,  speak- 
ing lower,  "sometimes  I  am  afraid  I  never  shall." 

"Why  afraid?" 

"Why?  Why,  because  it  must  be  so  beauti- 
ful!" 

Madeline  laughed  aloud  at  her  awestruck  tone. 
"You  sly-boots.  I  saw  the  glance  Ed  Arnold 
bestowed  upon  you  with  his  third  favor  at  the  last 
German." 

Katherine  did  not  smile;  neither  did  she  look 
offended,  but  thoughtful.  "The  Wise  Woman 
says  it  is  wrong  even  for  us  to  tease  one  another 
about  young  men,"  she  said. 

"Oh,  the  idea!"  exclaimed  Madeline. 

"  She  thinks  it  a  great  misfortune  for  a  girl  not 
to  be  able  to  prevent  a  proposal  of  marriage  that 
she  cannot  accept." 

Madeline  laughed  aloud.  "Sour  grapes! 
Wouldn't  you  know  an  old  maid  got  that  off?" 


A   PROFESSIONAL    VISIT.  87 

Katlierine's  face  flushed  throughout  its  white- 
ness. In  her  single-hearted  admiration  of  her 
pretty  sister,  she  seldom  had  been  so  indignant 
with  her. 

"Can  you  think  of  a  man  fit  to  be  the  Wise 
Woman's  husband?  "  she  asked,  after  a  hesitation 
during  which  she  performed  some  mental  act 
equivalent  to  counting  ten. 

"I  never  thought  about  it,"  said  Madeline  care- 
lessly. 

"Surely  you  are  above  the  ignorant  vulgarity 
of  deciding  that,  because  a  middle-aged  woman 
is  unmarried,  it  is  because  she  has  n't  had  the 
opportunity  to  be  otherwise?" 

"Nice,  soft  little  Kitties  shouldn't  get  excited," 
laughed  Madeline.  "Pardon  me,  if  I  stepped  on 
your  tenderest  sensibility.  It  was  through  igno- 
rance, I  assure  you.  I  knew  old  maids  were  the 
only  persons  truly  inspired  in  the  matter  of  bring- 
ing up  children;  but  I  hadn't  yet  learned  that 
they  were  authority  on  love  affairs." 

"I  suppose  there  is  nothing  bad  in  itself  about 
the  term  '  old  maid,'  "  said  Katherine  reflectively; 
"but  think  of  the  Wise  Woman,  with  her  noble 
white  head,  and  her  beautiful  unconscious  stateli- 
ness,  and  it  shows  how  ungracious  the  words  have 
become  that  they  no  more  fit  her  than  a  mean 
gown  would." 

"In  other  words,  your  little  sister  had  better 
obey  the  signs  and  keep  off  the  grass,  if  she  wants 
fetching  hats  and  other  favors  done  for  her," 
remarked  Madeline  jocosely. 


88  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Not  that,"  said  Katherine  quietly,  going  back 
to  the  work  she  had  dropped;  "but  I  wonder,  if 
the  Wise  Woman  should  gather  together  all  the 
girl  friends  we  have  in  Montaigne,  and  would 
take  the  trouble  to  talk  to  them  as  she  has  to  me, 
whether  the  larger  portion  of  them  would  not  accept 
her  words  as  true  and  be  the  better  for  them." 

"Oh,  smile  a  little,  Kitty,  even  on  poor,  degen- 
erate me."  Madeline  leaned  forward  and  chucked 
her  sister  under  the  chin. 

Katherine 's  eyes  suddenly  lifted,  and  she  deliv- 
ered a  searching  glance  into  the  blue  ones  so  near. 
"I  don't  think  you  have  always  been  able  to  help 
it  when  men  have  been  humiliated  by  your  refusal ; 
but  you  called  Lawton  Gates  '  poor  fool '  in  speak- 
ing of  him  afterward.  I  never  forgot  that." 

"He  was  as  poor  as  he  could  decently  be,  and 
a  poverty-stricken  man  is  always  a  fool  to  offer 
himself  to  a  girl.  Let  him  '  flax  around, '  as  Mr. 
Hodgson  used  to  say,  and  get  some  money  before 
he  talks  about  such  things." 

"And  you  encouraged  Tom  Sheldon,"  continued 
Katherine  accusingly. 

Madeline  looked  reflective  as  she  leaned  her  chin 
on  her  clasped  hands.  "Wouldn't  he  be  stun- 
ning, if  he  could  fall  heir  to  a  fortune  and  get  him 
some  antecedents?" 

"  Humph !  "  exclaimed  Katherine.     "  Go  to  "  — 

"I  won't." 

"Go  to  the  cemetery  " 

"Thanks  awfully." 


A   PROFESSIONAL    VISIT.  89 

"At  Pokonet,  and  see  whether  Mr.  Sheldon  is 
in  need  of  antecedents.  There  they  lie,  all  the 
way  back  to  the  seventeenth  century.  Can  you 
show  as  many  ?  " 

"My  ancestors  may  be  few,  but  they  are  more 
grammatical  than  his.  Do  you  remember  '  Dea- 
con Smith,'  who  departed  this  life  in  1690?  " 

'  Smith  is  no  more.     His  soul  has  took  its  flight 
From  sin  and  darkness  to  celestial  light. 
Weep  reader,  weep,  but  not  for  him  the  sigh, 
For  you,  yourself,  like  him,  the  same,  must  die !  " 

Katherine  nodded.  "How  often  I  have  wished 
I  might  conjure  up  the  figures  of  the  men  and 
women  who  used  to  walk  about  the  Pokonet  roads 
in  those  by -gone  days.  I  think  Miss  Laird  must 
resemble  some  village  beauty  whose  delicate  fea- 
tures singled  her  out  from  her  companions,  some 
pretty,  great-great-grandmother,  who  left  the  pat- 
tern of  her  nose  as  a  precious  heirloom  to  be 
passed  down  to  posterity." 

"If  it  were  n't  for  Marguerite  "  —  began  Made- 
line thoughtfully,  and  paused. 

"What  were  you  going  to  say?  " 

"Oh,  nothing.  I  was  only  thinking  that  Tom 
Sheldon  is  a  very  presentable  sort  of  man,"  re- 
turned Madeline. 

Katherine  glanced  at  her.  Ever  since  her  fly- 
ing trip  to  Pokonet,  it  had  seemed  to  her  that  she 
and  Madeline  were  less  at  one  than  of  old.  It  was 
an  unpleasant  thought,  and  she  always  thrust  it 
away  when  it  claimed  admission. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

MILLINER   AND   MEDICO. 

"You  can  wear  almost  any  color  you  like, 
madam,"  said  Marguerite.  "Probably  you  can 
scarcely  understand  what  a  relief  it  is  to  my 
mind  when  a  customer  like  yourself  enters  my 
room." 

The  lady  addressed  smiled,  and  looked  curi- 
ously at  the  milliner. 

"Yes;  I  am  something  of  an  enthusiast  in  my 
work,  and  it  is  a  positive  pain  to  me  when  a  cus- 
tomer insists  upon  a  tint  unsuited  to  her.  I 
assure  you  I  am  obliged  to  expend  much  tact  and 
diplomacy  upon  some  in  order  to  get  my  way, 
and  even  then  am  not  always  able  to  avert  the 
catastrophe." 

"Dear  me,"  said  the  elder  woman,  looking 
amusedly  into  the  speaking  eyes. 

"When  a  person  like  yourself  comes  into  the 
room  I  say  to  myself :  '  She  will  repay  me  by  her 
appearance  for  my  trouble,  and  there  will  be  no 
contention. '  Nature  imparts  a  delicacy  to  the  skin 
to  match  the  hair  as  it  turns  white,  and  conse- 
quently there  is  a  gracious  welcoming  of  all  colors, 
which  takes  away  the  fear  of  discord,  if  ordinary 
precaution  is  observed." 


MILLINER   AND    MEDICO.  91 

"Bless  me,  child,"  laughed  the  other.  "I  don't 
wonder  at  your  success,  if  you  make  people  in  love 
with  old  age." 

"You  are  in  the  youth  of  old  age,  madam;  but 
every  age  has  its  attractions,  if  only  health  accom- 
panies it." 

The  customer  looked  about  her.  "I  have  been 
told  a  good  deal  about  this  little  establishment  of 
yours,  and,  happening  to  be  in  the  neighborhood, 
I  thought  I  would  look  in;  but  I  don't  really  need 
a  bonnet  just  now." 

"Come  again  when  you  do."  Marguerite  gave 
her  fleeting  bright  smile. 

"I  hear  it  contradicted  that  you  are  French ;" 
the  lady's  searching  dark  eyes  looked  back  at 
her. 

*'  I  have  confided  that  fact  to  but  one  customer. 
I  felt  certain  she  wouldn't  betray  me."  The 
speaker  did  not  look  anxious. 

"It  was  your  grocer  down  here  who  was  my 
informant.  I  was  in  there  just  now,  and  he 
referred  to  '  that  there  French  milliner  up  street 
that  ain't  no  more  French  'n  you  be.' ' 

Marguerite  laughed.  "I  think  I  can  go  on  my 
own  merits  now." 

"It  looks  so.  Well,"  with  a  faint  sigh,  "I 
believe  you  will  have  to  make  me  a  bonnet.  Either 
my  vanity  that  you  have  flattered  so  adroitly,  or 
else  my  conscience,  suggests  that  I  ought  to  have 
something  a  little  dressy  to  wear  in  the  evening." 

"Will  you  leave  it  to  me  entirely?  "    There  was 


92  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

a  strain  of  childlike  enthusiasm  in  the  milliner's 
tone. 

"I  don't  know.  I  'm  a  little  afraid  of  you. 
Your  hints  sounded  as  if  you  thought  a  rainbow 
would  be  a  rather  becoming  bonnet  for  me.  Re- 
member now,  I  have  clung  to  gray  and  black  for 
ten  years." 

Marguerite  smiled.  "I  can  almost  see  it  now," 
she  said.  "Gray  velvet,  chiffon,  steel,  and  a  touch 
of  red." 

"Oh,  I  suppose  it  is  heresy  to  doubt  you," 
returned  the  other,  with  a  shrug.  "After  all, 
you  are  Marguerite." 

"Then  let  me  take  off  your  bonnet,  and  we  will 
see  about  the  frame." 

A  short  time  afterward,  the  door  of  the  doctor's 
office  across  the  hall  rang  its  little  bell,  and  Mar- 
guerite's customer  entered  Dr.  McKnight's  recep- 
tion-room. 

"You  have  n't  gone,"  she  said,  as  Jasper 
emerged  from  an  inner  door. 

"No;  there  are  a  few  minutes'  grace  yet;"  the 
doctor  kissed  his  guest. 

"You  are  very  nice  here,"  she  said,  looking 
about  critically.  "Those  hangings  are  an  im- 
provement. It  is  really  cozy  with  the  table  and 
easy-chairs  and  books." 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  smiling,  as  he  seated  his 
aunt  and  threw  himself  in  a  negligent  attitude  on 
a  divan,  "a  pleasant  spot  in  which  to  spend  a 
solitary  hour  or  so  each  day." 


MILLINER   AND   MEDICO.  93 

"Nonsense,"  she  returned  brightly.  "You 
won't  be  solitary  long.  You  were  always  a  fortu- 
nate boy." 

"I  don't  know,  aunt  Edna.  I  am  reminded  of 
the  fisherman  who  sets  out  with  the  latest  wrinkle 
in  basket  and  fancy  rod  and  tackle,  and  watches 
his  unmolested  line  all  day,  while  the  boy  a  few 
feet  away,  with  a  string  and  a  bent  pin,  is  indus- 
triously pulling  in  fish." 

Miss  McKnight  smiled.  "It  is  a  good  place 
for  fish,  certainly.  There  is  a  girl  across  the  hall 
catching  them  fast  enough.  She  uses  a  needle  and 
thread  instead  of  a  pin  and  string,  but  she  takes 
them.  I  am  the  latest  victim.  I  think  her  bait 
must  be  her  specialty." 

"Her  looks,  you  mean?  I'm  afraid  I  can't 
compete  with  her  there." 

"No,  no.     She  is  clever." 

"And  do  you  mean,  you  unnatural  aunt " 

"  No ;  I  have  plenty  of  faith  in  your  cleverness ; 
but  one  phase  of  it  is  patience,  remember." 

"Patients  are  just  what  I  lack." 

Miss  McKnight  raised  her  daintily  gloved  hand. 
"  I  would  rather  believe  you  ungrammatical  than 
guilty  of  an  antique  pun.  I  have  been  to  see  one 
of  your  patients  to-day." 

"Who?" 

"Katherine  Ormond." 

"She  is  not  mine.  She  is  Dr.  Granbury's. 
She  hasn't  a  particle  of  confidence  in  me." 

"They  are  extremely  friendly  to  you,  from 
Mrs.  Ormond  down." 


94  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Yes,  but  that  is  different.  Is  Katherine  still 
making  hats  for  her  sister?  " 

"No;  I  found  her  reading  to-day." 

"I  am  glad  you  went.  She  said  you  had  neg- 
lected her." 

"Dear  little  girl.  I  never  mean  to.  She  was 
reading  to  Madeline." 

"They  seem  devoted  to  each  other,"  remarked 
Jasper.  "It  is  pretty  to  see  two  sisters  such 
friends." 

Miss  McKnight  nodded  slowly.  "It  requires 
a  Katherine  to  fit  into  the  requirements  of  a 
Madeline." 

"Katherine  is  your  favorite,  isn't  she?"  asked 
the  doctor  curiously. 

"Katherine  Ormond  is  a  girl  who  has  begun 
the  good  fight,"  answered  his  aunt. 

"Why,  she  seems  to  me  quite  as  frivolous  as 
the  other  one." 

"I  did  not  intend  to  say  that  either  of  them  was 
frivolous.  I  have  seen  them  grow  up,  and  Kath- 
erine took  an  especial  hold  upon  my  sympathies 
when,  after  she  had  been  in  society  a  year  or  so, 
Madeline  came  forward  and  eclipsed  her.  It  was 
a  serious  and  not  an  easy  lesson  for  her  to  learn 
to  rejoice  in  Madeline's  triumphs;  to  have  a 
younger,  prettier  sister  divert  attention  from 
one's  self,  and  learn  to  be  glad  of  her  success,  is 
a  triumph;  and  little  Katherine  attained  it." 
Miss  McKnight' s  expression  grew  very  sweet,  as 
she  forgot  Jasper  and  allowed  her  thoughts  to 
conjure  up  some  inward  picture. 


MILLINER   AND   MEDICO.  95 

Her  nephew's  voice  broke  the  spell.  "Made- 
line Ormond  is  a  pretty  girl,"  he  said  heartily. 

"Yes,  indeed  she  is,"  responded  the  other.  "I 
hope  some  time  her  sweetness  will  go  all  the  way 
in." 

"Come  now,  aunt  Edna,  you  expect  too  much 
of  young  people." 

"No,  I  don't  think  so.  I  believe  in  them. 
Madeline's  prettiness  is  a  handicap  to  her;  but 
there  will  come  a  day  when  she  will  waken  to  the 
fact  that  she  has  a  soul,  and  some  things  that  are 
inverted  now  will  come  right  side  up." 

"  She  '11  do  as  she  is  for  common  folks  of  my 
gender,"  remarked  Jasper  lightly. 

His  aunt  looked  at  him  with  a  lenient,  affec- 
tionate expression  that  was  familiar.  "Yes,  poor 
dear,"  she  answered. 

"Who  is  the  poor  dear?"  he  demanded. 
"Madeline  Ormond  or  myself?"  Then  as  his 
aunt  only  smiled  and  looked  away,  he  drew  nearer 
and  took  her  gloved  hand  in  his.  "Tell  me  in- 
stantly whom  you  are  compassionating." 

"  I  pity  all  creatures  who  are  like  young  bears 
and  have  all  their  troubles  before  them,"  she 
returned. 

"Are  you  aware,  madam,  that  you  are  patron- 
izing a  full-blown  M.  D.  ?  " 

Miss  McKiiight  regarded  her  nephew  medita- 
tively. "Tell  me,  Jasper,"  she  said  at  last,  "are 
you  going  to  be  a  wise  doctor?  Oh,  I  dare  say 
you  will  be  a  wise  doctor,  but  are  you  going  to  be 
a  wise  doctor  ?  " 


96  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Is  this  some  more  spook  business?  Finding 
souls  and  things?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  hope  you  will  find  your  own  and  other 
people's,  else  you  won't  be  likely  to  do  much  good; 
but  that  isn't  the  point  I  was  thinking  of  just 
now.  I  haven't  always  been  strong  and  well  as 
I  am  at  present,  as  you  know,  and  my  experience 
with  doctors  has  been  varied ;  but  the  sum  of  it 
was  that  I  wanted  to  make  one  to  order." 

"Ah  ha! "  Jasper  lifted  his  eyebrows  and 
looked  enlightened.  "The  true  inwardness  of 
your  actions  is  coming  out.  You  influenced  a 
defenseless  orphan  in  a  manner  to  further  your 
own  schemes.  Very  well.  What  next?" 

"Next  I  want  to  give  you  one  or  two  rules 
which,  if  you  are  to  be  the  totally  original  and 
ideal  physician,  you  are  never  to  forget." 

"Go  on,  Wise  Woman." 

"First,  be  your  patient  rich  or  poor,  young  or 
old,  pretty  or  ugly,  male  or  female,  remember 
that  that  patient  is  a  human  being  with  a  soul "  — 

"I  knew  there  was  a  spook  in  the  fence." 

"An  individual  with  feelings,  hopes,  and  fears, 
especially  fears,  and  not  merely  a  case.  One 
would  suppose  that  the  very  fact  that  a  person 
goes  to  a  doctor  argues  a  condition  of  mind  and 
body  which  requires  all  the  hope  and  cheer  to  be 
suggested  that  the  facts  will  permit.  Instead  of 
this,  physicians,  the  best  of  those  whom  I  have 
known,  will  allow  themselves  to  commit  one  or  all 
of  the  following  stupid  iniquities."  Miss  Me- 


MILLINER   AND    MEDICO.  97 

Knight  checked  off  her  accusations  on  her  fin- 
gers. "  Where  the  patient  is  ill  enough  to  be  in 
bed,  I  admit  that  a  doctor  is  more  guarded.  It  is 
in  his  office  that  there  is  most  thoughtless  unkind- 
ness.  Occasionally  the  physician  thinks  aloud, 
stating  unfavorable  symptoms  of  the  patient's  con- 
dition ;  a  proceeding  always  harmful,  and  inexcus- 
able unless  death  is  imminent.  This  is  sometimes 
done  from  carelessness,  and  sometimes  for  the 
purpose  of  exhibiting  knowledge.  Secondly,  he 
relates  grewsome  tales  of  the  experience  of  other 
patients  suffering  from  maladies  similar  to  the  one 
under  treatment,  dwelling  upon  facts  interesting 
to  himself  from  a  scientific  point  of  view,  and 
simply  heart-sickening  to  his  unfortunate  listener. 
The  patient  has  come  to  his  office  to  be  helped  up 
out  of  some  slough.  It  would  be  presumable 
that  the  physician,  of  all  people  in  the  world, 
would  realize  that  the  troubled  mind  must  be 
lifted  from  a  dreary  view  of  disease,  yet  this  phy- 
sician is  frequently  the  very  one  to  fill  this  de- 
pressed mind  with  new  and  worse  pictures  of  ill 
while  he  deals  out  his  remedy.  Probably  no- 
where in  the  world  has  there  been  more  heroically 
polite  self -repression  than  in  doctors'  offices.  A 
person  is  ordinarily  much  attached  to  his  physi- 
cian. He  will  listen  to  much  that  weighs  him 
down  rather  than  snub  this  kind  and  useful  friend. 
Take,  for  instance,  one  of  my  own  experiences. 
I  was  suffering  from  insomnia,  and  was  very  ner- 
vous. During  one  of  my  visits  to  the  doctor, 


98  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

another  physician  came  in,  to  whom  mine  de- 
scribed my  case.  The  visitor  immediately  began 
to  cite  in  detail  a  case  of  insomnia  under  his  own 
care.  He  put  into  my  mind  symptoms  that  I  had 
never  thought  of.  I  shall  never  forget  the  cruci- 
fixion of  listening  to  his  recital,  while  my  own 
physician  was  wrapped  in  interest.  The  shrieks 
of  the  agonized  creature  he  described  ring  in  my 
ears  to-day.  Now  that  I  am  strong  I  could  bear 
such  a  story,  if  necessary ;  but  at  that  time  would 
you  not  suppose  that  the  mere  fact  that  I  was  in 
that  office  for  treatment  would  have  made  those 
doctors  as  quickly  offer  me  pure  arsenic  as  that 
recital?" 

"You  have  been  unfortunate  in  your  physi- 
cians," said  Jasper. 

"Perhaps,  my  dear,  but  in  a  long  life  I  have 
employed  many.  The  cloven  foot  has  always 
shown  in  a  greater  or  less  degree.  The  mistakes 
that  arise  from  forgetting  the  individual  in  the 
case  are  pitiful.  When  being  treated  for  nervous 
troubles,  I  have  been  offered  the  entertainment  of 
seeing  in  a  doctor's  book  pictures  of  hysterical 
sufferers  contorted  into  painful  and  unnatural 
postures.  Now,  Jasper,  I  am  very  earnest  in  what 
I  say.  Avoid  the  least  taint  of  this  stupidity 
as  you  would  the  plague.  Tell  your  patient,  if 
necessary,  that  his  road  to  health  may  be  a  long 
one,  but  give  him  all  the  cheer  and  hope  you  can. 
Refrain  from  a  look  or  word  that  his  temporarily 
diseased  imagination  can  construe  gloomily.  Re- 


MILLINER  AND   MEDICO.  99 

member  that  he  wouldn't  call  you,  or  call  upon 
you,  if  he  were  in  condition  to  make  a  study  of 
pathology,  and  don't  let  your  intellectual  delight 
in  science  blind  your  perceptions.  So  you  will 
be  my  ideal  doctor,"  Miss  McKnight  drew  the 
young  man  toward  her  and  kissed  him  lightly  on 
the  forehead,  "as  you  are  my  dear  boy." 

"I  believe  there  is  sense  in  your  suggestions. 
I  only  hope  I  shall  remember  them." 

"Perhaps  I  had  better  adopt  the  plan  of  a 
monthly  catechism.  It  is  easy  enough  to  see  how 
these  facts  have  helped  people  to  swing  to  the 
extreme  opposite  views  of  Christian  Scientists. 
Their  regime  at  least  promises  a  cheerful  life  and 
a  cheerful  death,  for  they  fly  every  picture  of  dis- 
cord and  evil.  You  cannot  do  better  than  to  take 
many  lessons  out  of  their  book." 

"You  want  to  make  a  sort  of  mongrel  of  me,  do 
you?  "  Jasper  laughed. 

"No;"  Miss  McKnight  spoke  wistfully;  "we 
want  truth,  truth.  We  who  believe  the  body  to 
be  God's  creation  as  well  as  the  soul,  and  believe 
in  the  action  of  food  as  an  orderly,  ordained 
means  of  sustaining  life,  must  also  believe  in  the 
action  of  material  remedies ;  but  the  ideal  doctor 
will  not  put  the  cart  before  the  horse.  He  will 
not  fail  to  consider  the  mind's  action  as  first  and 
most  important.  Right  thoughts,  right  food, 
right  exercise!  If  ever  the  rules  for  them  shall 
be  found  and  abided  by  —  why,  then,  dear,"  Miss 
McKnight's  eyes  twinkled,  "all  you  and  your  like 


100  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

will  be  good  for  will  be  to  mend  up  a  broken  bone 
here  and  there." 

"Stop,  stop.  You  might  be  overheard.  Such 
talk  hinders  trade.  Speaking  of  maltreated  bones 
makes  me  think  of  Katherine  Ormond.  Did  she 
say  anything  to  you  about  Miss  Laird?" 

"Miss  Laird?" 

"The  fair  Marguerite  over  there."  Jasper  mo- 
tioned with  his  head  in  the  direction  of  the  hall. 
"Her  name  when  she  is  presiding  at  a  tea-table  in 
private  life  is  Miss  Laird.  I  met  her  the  night 
Katherine  sprained  her  ankle." 

"No,  Katherine  did  n't  speak  of  her.  We 
were  not  alone  at  all,  and  the  conversation  was 
general." 

"I  fancy  they  are  good  friends." 

Miss  McKnight  looked  interested.  "Then  that 
bright  creature  is  genuine,"  she  said,  in  a  pleased 
tone. 

Her  nephew  smiled.  "What  of  that?"  he 
asked. 

"Oh,  I  like  to  know  it.  She  is  so  full  of  life, 
she  sparkles.  I  had  quite  a  talk  with  her  in 
there.  She  might  be  smart  and  naughty,  you 
know.  I  am  glad  that  she  has  a  friend  like  Kath- 
erine." 

"It  isn't  likely  to  do  her  much  good;  that  is, 
not  if  Mrs.  Ormond  sees  her  first.  Noblesse 
oblige,  you  know."  Jasper  laughed,  and  his 
aunt  shook  her  head  as  if  meditating  on  his  words. 

"By  the  way,"  he  added,  "it  appears  that  Miss 


MILLINER   AND   MEDICO.  101 

Laird's  half-brother,  who  lives  with  her,  is  in 
Uncle  Robert's  Works,  and  is  making  himself  of 
some  importance.  Uncle  Robert  had  occasion  to 
send  him  some  word  last  Sunday,  and  as  I  was 
there  and  this  Sheldon  lived  in  Montaigne,  Uncle 
Rob  gave  me  the  note,  and  lo,  the  address  was 
right  here  in  my  own  hall.  I  had  met  Sheldon 
before  on  the  eventful  occasion  of  Katherine's 
sprain." 

"What  is  he  like?  Does  he  give  off  little 
superabundant  sparkles  like  his  sister?" 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.  Reserved,  self-contained  kind 
of  man.  Good  head,  good  eye.  Looks  you  in  the 
face  in  a  natural,  straightforward,  dignified  fash- 
ion. He  's  a  Stevens  graduate,  knows  his  p's  and 
#'s  all  right." 

"They  're  a  bright  pair  of  young  people,  then. 
I  hope  Mrs.  Ormond's  noblesse  is  n't  going  to 
cheat  them  of  any  pleasure  they  might  have,  and 
if  they  are  of  my  way  of  thinking,  Katherine  is 
not  only  a  pleasure,  but  a  luxury." 

"You  are  all  broken  up,  aren't  you?"  said 
Jasper,  smiling  at  her  curiously. 

"I  am  staying  here  too  long  for  a  person  in 
rude  health,"  returned  Miss  McKnight,  rising 
suddenly. 

"It  is  a  little  rude  of  you  to  be  healthy,  I 
admit ;  but  wait  a  minute.  There  will  be  another 
item  of  my  unexceptionable  equipment  at  the  door 
in  a  second.  Don't  you  want  me  to  drive  you 
home?  I  am  about  to  visit  one  of  Dr.  Granbury's 


102  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

patients,  whom  he  trusts  me  with  because  he  says 
there  's  nothing  the  matter  with  her." 

"Very  well.  I  '11  go,  then;  and  en  route  I  will 
be  the  power  behind  the  throne  and  tell  you  what 
to  say  to  her." 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

THE    ATHLETIC    CLUB. 

"!T  is  the  Wise  Woman,"  said  Katherine 
gladly,  as  her  friend  walked  into  the  room  one 
morning  soon  after.  "When  I  heard  the  bell 
ring  I  hoped  for  you.  Have  you  come  to  stay  all 
day?  Take  off  your  wraps  and  make  me  happy." 

"You  are  almost  as  nice  a  flatterer  as  Margue- 
rite the  milliner,"  returned  Miss  McKnight.  "I 
hope  I  shall  be  more  successful  in  withstanding 
you  than  I  was  with  her,  for  I  must  n't  think  of 
staying  all  day." 

"  Then  you  have  been  hypnotized,  too  ?  " 

"Oh,  that  is  what  you  call  it?"  said  Miss 
McKnight,  seating  herself  beside  Katherine 's 
couch. 

"How  did  you  like  her?"  asked  the  girl,  with 
interest;  and  in  the  light  of  Jasper's  suggestion, 
it  amused  the  visitor  to  note  that  she  lowered  her 
voice. 

"Wouldn't  I  like  anybody  who  offers  to  make 
me  charming?  I  have  warned  Jasper  that  the 
phenomenon  of  Ninon  de  L'Enclos  is  to  have  a 
parallel.  He  is  doomed  to  fall  in  love  with  me." 

"He  couldn't  be  any  deeper  in,  I  'm  sure;  but 


104  THE    WTSE    WOMAN. 

Marguerite  herself .  She  is  n't  an  every-day  per- 
son." 

"No.     You  are  right  about  that." 

"I  miss  her,  dear  Wise  Woman.  I  actually 
miss  her.  If  it  had  been  she  instead  of  you  who 
walked  in  when  the  bell  rang  this  morning,  I 
should  have  been  nearly  as  pleased  —  perhaps 
even  more  so  on  account  of  the  surprise,  for  I 
know  she  will  not  come  unless  she  is  summoned, 
and  mother  thinks  it  nonsense  for  me  to  send  for 
her.  Mother  and  Madeline  don't  know  her.  To 
them  she  is  a  business  acquaintance  only.  They 
can't  understand  why  I  should  wish  to  see  her." 

"I  see.  Are  you  having  a  pretty  dull  time  of 
it,  dear?" 

"No.  I  am  busy,  and  there  are  friends  com- 
ing and  going  all  the  time.  All  the  same  it 
seems  the  most  desirable  thing  in  life  to  be  able 
to  run  upstairs  and  get  some  trifle  that  I  want, 
or  to  go  into  New  York  and  choose  my  own  dress 
instead  of  having  Madeline  bring  me  samples. 
You  ought  to  see  Madeline  in  the  gown  she  is 
going  to  wear  to  pour  chocolate  at  Emily  Gran- 
bury's  debut.  She  is  a  dream!"  finished  Kath- 
erine,  with  enthusiasm. 

"I  shall  see  her,  I  suppose.     I  am  going." 

"Are  you  really?  It  is  a  red-letter  occasion 
that  tempts  you  into  society." 

Miss  McKnight  had  taken  off  her  gloves,  and 
her  fingers  were  flying  as  she  knitted  on  a  pair  of 
silk  mittens  she  had  drawn  from  a  small  leather 
bag.  She  smiled  at  her  work. 


THE   ATHLETIC    CLUB.  105 

"Times  are  changed.  I  have  submitted  to  be- 
ing taken  down  from  the  shelf  and  dusted  this 
fall.  Jasper  demanded  it." 

Katherine  clapped  her  hands.  "Joy!  Who 
knows  but  you  will  chaperone  me  some  time." 

"I  shall  do  as  I'm  told,  my  dear;  and  I  will 
confess,  if  the  order  came  to  take  Katherine  Or- 
mond  under  my  wing,  the  pill  of  society  would 
become  temporarily  sugar-coated." 

"Is  society  a  pill,  dear  Wise  Woman?  " 

"It  has  been  for  me  of  late  years;  I  am  old 
and  la/y;  but  that  hypnotic  young  woman  we 
were  talking  about  says  I  am  in  the  youth  of  old 
age.  You  may  meet  me  in  the  mazes  of  the  ball- 
room, yet.  If  Jasper  told  me  I  was  to  dance,  I 
suppose  I  should.  I  feel  a  dangerous  atmosphere 
of  giddiness  gathering  around  me." 

"Did  Marguerite  mention  me  to  you?"  asked 
Katherine,  again  dropping  her  voice. 

"I  was  in  there  a  minute  yesterday,  and  I 
spoke  of  you  to  her.  She  merely  said  that  Dr. 
McKnight  had  told  her  that  you  were  getting  on 
slowly,  but  surely." 

"Didn't  she  ask  anything?  Didn't  she  — 
didn't  she  speak  in  a  friendly  way ?"  asked  the 
girl  wistfully. 

"Why,  it  was  simply  in  passing,  dear,"  re- 
turned Miss  McKnight,  who  had,  in  fact,  been 
surprised  at  the  cool  and  perfunctory  manner  in 
which  the  milliner  had  dealt  with  the  subject  of 
Miss  Ormond  when  her  customer  brought  it  up 


106  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

with  the  expectation  of  pleasing  her.  "You  know 
she  is  very  business-like  in  her  ways,  and  I  sup- 
pose very  busy." 

"Oh,  yes,  busy  as  a  bee,"  returned  Katherine. 
Nevertheless,  she  was  disappointed.  She  would 
have  liked  to  know  that  Marguerite  reciprocated 
her  own  friendly  feelings.  She  had  longed  ever 
since  her  imprisonment  to  see  the  face  that  had  so 
often  lighted  for  her  into  vivacity.  Yet  she  could 
but  have  felt  it  a  great  embarrassment  had  the 
desired  event  of  a  visit  from  Miss  Laird  taken 
place.  She  knew  that  her  mother  and  sister  would 
regard  such  a  social  advance  from  the  milliner  as 
a  piece  of  ridiculous  temerity. 

Katherine  always  felt  intuitively  more  secure  of 
her  brother's  sympathy  in  her  own  desires  than 
she  did  in  Madeline's.  She  seldom  saw  him 
alone  now,  but  that  very  evening  he  came  down 
from  his  room  in  smoking- jacket  and  slippers,  and 
seated  himself  near  her  divan. 

"Why,  you  look  delightfully  permanent,"  she 
said.  "  I  supposed,  of  course,  you  were  going  with 
mother  and  Madeline  to  the  musicale." 

"I  begged  off.  My  head  aches.  I  am  going 
to  call  for  them  later.  The  music  of  your  voice 
is  all  I  can  stand  this  evening.  The  thought  of 
a  piano  unnerves  me,  and  I  would  about  as  lief 
hear  violin  strings  in  their  crude  form  in  the  back 
yard  as  to  listen  to  Marteau  himself  to-night." 

"Then  you  are  hopeless,  and  would  much  better 
stay  with  your  sister.  I  am  charmed  with  my 


THE   ATHLETIC    CLUB.  107 

change  of  programme.  I  have  a  novel  here  that  I 
know  is  clever,  and  ought  to  be  absorbing,  but 
unlimited  license  to  frivol  takes  all  the  fun  out 
of  it.  The  time  I  relish  a  novel  most  keenly  is 
when  there  is  a  lot  of  pressing  work  waiting  for 
me,  and  I  promise  myself  every  page  to  turn  only 
one  more  leaf.  These  last  weeks  have  reduced 
me  to  the  condition  we  used  to  be  in  the  Thanks- 
giving afternoons  of  our  infancy,  when  mother 
told  us  we  could  go  to  the  closet  any  time,  and 
cut  any  pie  there  was  there.  I  am  simply  cloyed 
with  rest  and  recreation." 

"Is  that  what  you  call  it?"  returned  Gilbert 
dryly.  "  In  your  place,  I  should  be  so  savage  by 
this  time  that  I  should  shy  a  pillow,  or  something 
not  so  soft,  at  every  person  who  entered  the  room." 

"How  alluring  you  would  be  to  visitors!  I 
sha'n't  shy  anything  worse  than  a  kiss  at  you 
while  you  remember  to  bring  me  flowers."  The 
girl  drew  toward  her  a  single  great  rose,  a  veri- 
table treasure-house  of  sweetness,  which  shot  out 
healthy  green  leaves  from  its  woody  stem. 

"For  real  enjoyment,  give  me  one  American 
Beauty  rather  than  a  dozen,"  she  said. 

"For  real  economy  I  will,  fair  Katherine." 
Gilbert  leaned  iris  tired  head  against  the  chair- 
back.  "If  there  is  anything  under  heaven  you 
want,  Kitty,  the  least  we  can  do  is  to  get  it  for 
you,  —  that  is,  if  it  is  modest,  like  one  rosebud, 
for  instance." 

"It  is,"  said  Katherine,  in  an  odd  tone,  which 


108  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

caused  her  brother  to  roll  his  eyes  around  toward 
her. 

"Then  you  do  want  something." 

"Yes,  and  it  is  as  modest  as  a  rose,  and  as 
fresh  and  sweet,  and  even  better  to  look  at.  I  've 
wanted  it  a  long  time."  Katherine  smiled,  as  a 
puzzled  expression  grew  on  the  face  which  had  by 
this  tune  turned  fully  toward  her.  "You  are  the 
only  one  in  the  family  whom  I  should  dare  tell 
that  I  want  it,  too." 

"Well,  that  is  fortunate,  for  if  it-  weren't 
unmanly,  I  should  confess  to  curiosity." 

"Can't  you  guess?  I  should  suppose  you  could 
guess." 

"Animal,  vegetable,  or  mineral?" 

"Animal." 

"Oh,  I  know.     It  is  a  bird." 

Katherine's  eyes  twinkled  narrowly.  "Yes;  if 
I  allowed  myself  to  talk  slang  I  should  say  she 
was  a  bird." 

"She?  It's  a  girl,  then."  With  a  sudden 
bright  thought:  "It  is  Miss  Laird." 

Kate  nodded  slightly.     "Yes,  get  her  for  me." 

"I  will!  "     Gilbert  half  rose  from  his  chair. 

"Sit  down.     You  can't." 

He  sank  back.  "You  don't  tell  the  mother  and 
Maidie,"  he  remarked. 

"Should  you  advise  me  to?  " 

"Why  not?  I  think  we  ought  to  show  that 
brother  and  sister  some  friendliness  for  the  Hodg- 
sons'  sake." 


THE   ATHLETIC   CLUB.  109 

"You  do  think  so,  don't  you,  Gilbert?  "  Kath- 
erine  spoke  in  a  tone  of  relief.  "I  knew  you 
would,  and  that  is  a  comfort  to  me  even  if  we  're 
not  —  not  let." 

"I  don't  think  you  are  very  bright.  Why 
don't  you  demand  more  millinery  lessons  given  at 
the  house." 

"She  owes  me  one,  and  I  have  tried  for  it;  but 
mother  says  I  don't  need  any  more;  that  I  can 
trim  hats  well  enough  now." 

"That  is  what  you  get,  you  see,  for  not  being 
born  rich  or  handsome  instead  of  so  deuced  clever, 
Katherine.  Very  short-sighted  of  you,  very." 
Gilbert  thought  a  few  moments.  "  What  kind  of 
a  plan  would  it  be  for  me  to  run  over  there  some 
evening  and  drop  in  on  Tom  Sheldon?  " 

Katherine  looked  eager.     "A  fine  one  if  "  — 

"If  what?" 

"If  you  dare." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"You  know  well  enough  Your  call  might  have 
consequences." 

The  young  man  nodded.  "It  would  n't  do  to 
bring  Tom  here  only  to  have  him  snubbed." 

"Oh,  I  don't  think  mother  would  really  snub 
him." 

"Between  you  and  me,"  remarked  Gilbert,  "I 
don't  think  it  would  be  easy  to  snub  Sheldon." 

"Nor  I.  Of  course  any  other  man  of  our 
acquaintance  would  have  felt  obliged  to  come, 
out  of  common  politeness,  and  inquire  how  I  was 


110  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

getting  on.  His  not  doing  so  is  very  pointed,  I 
think." 

"Very  likely  he  doesn't  know  enough,"  said 
Gilbert. 

"What  an  idea,  Gilbert  Ormond!  " 

"His  education  hasn't  run  along  those  lines." 

"He  isn't  stupid,  and  he  is  kind,"  said  Kate 
warmly. 

"  Oh,  yes ;  but  he  knows  your  recovery  will  go 
on  just  as  well  without  him  and  his  inquiries. 
He  is  probably  ignorant  and  indifferent  as  to  con- 
ventionalities." 

"I  should  n't  wonder,"  said  Katherine,  her 
brown  eyes  shining,  "if  he  had  been  thinking  you 
an  odd  sort  of  man  to  take  no  notice  of  your 
newly  found  friend  after  all  he  and  his  sister  did 
for  us  that  evening." 

"Should  n't  wonder,"  agreed  Gilbert.  "I 
hadn't  thought  of  that.  I  shall  go  to  see  them." 

He  did  not  have  an  opportunity,  however,  to 
carry  out  the  intention  for  the  next  few  days,  and 
one  morning  at  breakfast  he  propounded  a  ques- 
tion over  the  beefsteak  and  coffee  to  his  family. 

"Guess  who  was  at  the  Athletic  Club  last 
evening." 

"Some  of  the  men  we  met  at  Lenox,"  said 
Madeline. 

"Jasper  McKnight,"  suggested  Mrs.  Ormond. 

"Oh,  he  is  nothing  new,"  said  Katherine,  who 
had  begun  to  come  to  the  table  again.  "I  guess 
that  it  was  Mr.  Sheldon." 


THE   ATHLETIC    CLUB.  Ill 

"Who  is  Mr.  Sheldon?"  asked  her  mother. 

"Tom  Sheldon!  What  an  idea,"  laughed 
Madeline.  "Katherine  will  be  unsophisticated  to 
the  day  of  her  death." 

"She  has  struck  it,  though,"  said  Gilbert 
quietly. 

"Are  you  talking  about  the  Hodgson  young 
man?  "  inquired  Mrs.  Ormond  coldly. 

"Yes;  Tom  Sheldon,"  answered  Madeline 
quickly,  interrogating  her  brother  with  large  eyes. 
"Whose  guest  was  he?  Did  you  ask  him,  Gil- 
bert Ormond?  Just  let  me  tell  you  you  've  gotten 
yourself  into  trouble." 

"With  whom?  Your  Ladyship?"  asked  Gil- 
bert dryly. 

"No.  I  warn  you  I  shall  have  nothing  to  do 
with  him,  under  the  circumstances.  If  it  were  not 
for  his  sister,  the  question  would  be  a  very  differ- 
ent one.  But  if  you  stand  sponsor  for  him  in  one 
place,  you  will  have  to  in  another;  and  you  will 
find  yourself  in  a  number  of  awkward  positions,  I 
can  promise  you." 

"Why,  you  are  a  snob  from  Snobtown,  aren't 
you,  Madeline?"  remarked  Gilbert,  continuing 
his  breakfast,  unmoved. 

"This  is  no  subject  to  tease  your  sister  about," 
said  Mrs.  Ormond  with  dignity.  "Madeline 
only  shows  common  sense  in  the  matter.  It  will 
be  mistaken  kindness  in  you,  Gilbert,  to  try  to 
lead  that  young  man  into  other  walks  of  life  than 
those  that  are  natural  to  him.  He  will  meet  nior- 


112  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

tifications  in  society,  and  when  he  receives  inevi- 
table slights  you  will  feel  it  very  much.  It  was  a 
strange  Fate  which  ordained  that  he  should  do  us 
that  little  favor  the  other  evening,  but  don't  try 
to  compensate  him  in  mistaken  ways.  If  you  stop 
right  here,  no  harm  will  be  done,"  added  Mrs. 
Ormond  less  severely.  "Of  course,  in  a  men's 
club,  once  in  a  way,  he  would  not  show  at  any 
particular  disadvantage . ' ' 

"On  the  contrary,"  returned  Gilbert,  "they 
were  working  in  the  gymnasium,  and  a  little 
crowd  gathered  around  to  watch  Tom,  who  became 
quite  a  lion  before  the  evening  was  over." 

"That  is  all  very  well;  but  you  men  adore 
muscle  so,  you  might  forget  that  it  is  not  the 
greatest  factor  in  a  drawing-room.  Let  me  re- 
mind you  in  time,  my  dear." 

"Well  now,"  said  Gilbert,  drawing  his  brows 
together  argumentatively,  "I  wonder  if  you  are 
entirely  right.  There  is  McKnight,  for  instance. 
He  is  a  neighbor  of  Sheldon's  an  hour  or  so  each 
day.  Don't  you  think  that  if  he  and  I  to- 
gether "  — 

"Impossible!  Absurd!"  interrupted  Mrs.  Or- 
mond. "Jasper  is  far  too  sensible  and  too  far- 
sighted  to  Compromise  himself." 

"Oh,  mother!" 

Gilbert  threw  his  head  back  and  laughed  so 
heartily  that  Mrs.  Ormond  colored  high  with 
offense. 

"No    doubt  he  would  be   kind  to  them,"   she 


THE   ATHLETIC    CLUB.  113 

returned,  and  her  tone  had  an  edge.  "There  is 
a  saying  which  you  remind  me  of,  my  son. 
'  Young  folks  think  old  folks  are  fools ;  but  old 
folks  know  young  ones  are !  '  It  would  mortify 
me  to  have  you  approach  those  fastidious  Mc- 
Knights  with  any  such  foolish  suggestion.  I  have 
feared  this  from  the  evening  Katherine  sprained 
her  ankle.  I  feared  her  romantic  attachment  for 
the  most  distant  connection  of  Pokonet,  and  your 
childish  acquaintance  with  that  boy,  might  influ- 
ence one  or  both  of  you  to  encourage  a  renewal  of 
friendship.  They  are  nice,  respectable,  young 
people,  whom  we  wish  to  be  kind  to,  of  course, 
for  their  uncle's  sake  as  well  as  their  own;  but  as 
for  anything  further — •  I  am  glad  the  subject 
came  up,  for  it  is  as  well  to  ventilate  it  first  as 
last.  Anything  more  than  distant  politeness  on 
the  occasions  of  meeting  would  be  treating  them 
unfairly."  Mrs.  Ormond  finished  in  a  deeply 
virtuous  tone. 

"I  wish  that  Marguerite  would  go  back  where 
she  came  from,"  said  Madeline,  upon  whose  im- 
agination Gilbert's  suggestion  of  the  scene  in  the 
gymnasium  had  taken  hold.  She  liked  a  triumph- 
ant man,  whether  the  arena  of  his  successes  were 
the  ball-room  or  the  football  field.  "Mr.  Shel- 
don might  be  received  anywhere.  He  possesses 
the  art  of  making  a  good  appearance  and  holding 
his  tongue." 

"It  is  nothing  to  you,  in  any  case,"  returned 
her  mother  curtly.  "I  am  really  sorry  Gilbert 
even  introduced  him  at  the  Athletic  Club." 


114  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Please,  ma'am,  I  didn't."  Gilbert's  grin 
was  reflected  in  Katherine's  face,  as  she  eagerly 
listened  for  what  should  come  next. 

"Who  did,  then?"  demanded  Madeline. 

"Our  fastidious  friend  Jasper." 

Gilbert  looked  around  the  table  and  observed 
the  effect  of  his  coup. 

"I  am  astonished!"  said  Mrs.  Ormond  at 
last. 

"Your  looks  do  not  belie  you,  mamma  dear." 

"Well,  it  was  natural  enough,"  said  Madeline, 
"that  he  should  take  him  over,  once." 

"He  has  proposed  him  for  membership,"  said 
Gilbert,  making  the  announcement  with  mischiev- 
ous deliberation. 

"He  has!  "  exclaimed  Madeline. 

"Yes,  at  the  suggestion  of  his  uncle,  who  is 
Tom's  employer." 

"Oh,  we  begin  to  understand,"  said  Mrs.  Or- 
mond. "Questions  of  social  complication  would 
not  be  likely  to  disturb  the  conclusions  of  Mr. 
Robert  McKnight.  Now,  Gilbert,  I  suppose  it  is 
useless  for  me  to  attempt  to  convince  you,  but  I 
assure  you,  you  will  be  taking  good  advice  if  you 
will  get  this  Mr.  Sheldon  blackballed." 

Gilbert  smiled.  "Is  that  your  best  suggestion 
of  ways  and  means  to  '  be  kind  to  these  nice  young 
people'?" 

"It  is,"  returned  Mrs.  Ormond  promptly,  ris- 
ing from  the  table  with  dignity  "Nip  in  the  bud 
this  blundering  attempt.  You  know  very  well  the 


THE    ATHLETIC    CLUB.  115 

Athletic  Club's  social  side  is  an  important  feature 
of  it.  Cast  your  thoughts  into  the  future  and  see 
Mr.  Sheldon  bringing  his  sister  to  its  entertain- 
ments. What  do  you  suppose  will  happen  to  her? 
She  will  be  gently  but  decisively  cut.  In  her  own 
place  she  is  useful  and  happy.  Let  her  stay 
there." 

"It  will  be  very  awkward,"  added  Madeline, 
looking  dark.  "We  must  agree  together  to  fol- 
low the  same  course,  whatever  it  is.  Anything 
else  would  be  ridiculous."  She  flashed  an  anxious 
glance  at  her  sister,  who  kept  her  eyes  down. 

"My  friends,"  said  Gilbert,  "social  distinctions 
never  seemed  so  absurd  to  me  as  they  do  this 
minute.  Madeline,  supposing  you  were  wrecked 
on  a  desert  island  with  Tom  Sheldon  and  his  sis- 
ter. Do  you  think  you  would  cut  either  of  them? 
It  is  my  shrewd  guess  that  you  would  cuddle  down 
between  the  two,  and  allow  Marguerite  to  serve 
you  with  oysters  on  the  half  shell,  and  permit 
Tom  to  find  you  a  spring  of  fresh  water.  Vanity, 
vanity,  all  is  vanity." 

Madeline  grew  red  as  a  peony,  and  the  four 
arose  from  the  table,  somewhat  stirred.  Kather- 
ine  clung  to  her  brother  as  he  half  carried  her 
back  to  her  corner. 

"Oh,  Gilbert,  I  'm  so  glad  and  so  scared,"  she 
said,  giving  him  a  surreptitious  squeeze. 

"I  don't  know  whether  Tom  will  get  in  or  not, 
at  once,"  he  replied  aloud,  "on  account  of  num- 
bers. You  want  a  fire  here,  don't  you?"  he 


116  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

added,  glancing  around  the  room,  which  looked 
chill  in  the  gray,  cloudy  day. 

"Yes,  please  send  Jane,"  replied  Katherine, 
seating  herself,  and  half  laughing  as  she  squeezed 
two  tears  back  into  her  bright  eyes.  "I  am  one 
of  the  sort  of  things  that  are  good  for  nothing 
cold." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

AN   AVERTED   DANGER. 

IN  the  couple  of  calls  which  Miss  McKnight 
made  upon  the  milliner  before  her  final  visit,  they 
exchanged  no  word  beyond  business,  save  the  one 
fruitless  suggestion  by  the  customer  of  Miss  Or- 
mond's  name. 

On  the  third  occasion  Miss  McKnight  smiled 
at  her  reflection  in  the  glass,  crowned  by  the 
dainty  trifle  which  Marguerite  called  a  bonnet  and 
adjusted  with  a  satisfied  air. 

"I  knew  it  would  please  you,"  said  the  milli- 
ner, also  surveying  the  reflection,  her  head  on  one 
side. 

"I  haven't  said  that  it  does,"  replied  the  cus- 
tomer. 

"But  one  cannot  look  at  you  and  doubt  your 
good  taste,  Miss  McKnight." 

"Egotistical  young  woman!  Is  your  standard 
then  unquestionable  ?  " 

Marguerite  laughed  merrily.  She  was  so 
freshly,  happily,  and  spontaneously  interested  in 
her  work  that  her  comments,  although  sometimes 
trite,  gained  originality  and  convincing  power  from 
her  lips.  "Yes,  I  have  a  colossal  self-confidence 


118  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

which,  had  I  been  a  man,  might  have  made  of  me 
a  second  Worth." 

Miss  McKnight  continued  to  regard  herself. 
"That  touch  of  rich  red  makes  me  feel  as  if  I  had 
painted  my  cheeks,"  she  said. 

"It  is  most  becoming,"  said  Marguerite  firmly. 

"  I  think  you  would  better  take  it  out.  Let  me 
be  a  symphony  in  gray." 

"It  would  be  desecration  to  touch  it.  It  would 
move  the  picture  into  a  poor  light."  Marguerite 
gestured  expressively.  "All  the  life  would  be 
gone.  Oh,  the  contrariness  of  human  nature !  If 
only  some  of  the  people  who  need  to  be  toned 
down  could  be  induced  to  feel  as  you  do!  " 

Miss  McKnight  smiled.  "Your  art  has  its 
drawbacks."  Then  she  added:  "I  expect  I  shall 
receive  a  compliment  from  Miss  Ormond  upon 
this.  She  is  a  special  ally  of  mine.  I  think  we 
spoke  of  Miss  Katherine  the  other  day,  and  you 
said  she  was  your  customer,  or  under-study,  or 
something." 

"I  taught  her,"  answered  Marguerite,  and  her 
sententiousness  did  not  at  all  satisfy  Miss  Mc- 
Knight. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  remember,  and  she  had  not  quite 
finished  when  her  accident  occurred.  Was  she  an 
apt  pupil?  " 

"Very." 

"I  suppose  you  never  go  out  to  give  a  lesson." 

"I  have  n't  as  yet.     No." 

"But  you  are  not  so  busy  now,  I  fancy." 


AN  AVERTED   DANGER.  119 

"No.     We  are  coming  to  the  quiet  season." 

"I  am  sure  Miss  Ormond  would  be  glad  if  you 
could  go  to  her  and  give  her  her  diploma." 

"She  has  not  expressed  a  wish  that  I  should." 

"Perhaps  she  thinks  you  are  too  occupied  to 
spare  the  time.  She  said  to  me  the  other  day  that 
she  missed  her  visits  with  you." 

A  warmth  overspread  the  milliner's  face. 
"That  is  very  good  of  her,"  she  said,  but  she 
spoke  with  gentle  formality,  and  Miss  McKnight 
was  surprised  to  feel  that  mentally  she  was  held 
away. 

"Are  you  a  native  of  Montaigne?"  she  asked. 

"No,  I  come  from  a  little  town  in  Michigan 
near  Detroit." 

"And  you  live  here  with  your  brother."  Miss 
McKnight  regarded  her  with  kindly,  penetrating 
eyes,  amused  and  a  little  piqued  at  this  piecemeal 
method  of  getting  information.  "I  have  heard  of 
him,  as  he  is  in  my  brother's  Works." 

Marguerite  bowed.  "I  thought  it  likely  that 
you  belonged  to  the  same  family  of  McKnights." 

"  Yes ;  your  neighbor,  the  doctor,  is  my  nephew, 
my  son  in  all  but  name.  I  brought  him  up." 

Miss  McKnight  was  not  garrulous.  She  was 
introducing  herself  with  a  purpose.  The  milliner 
accepted  her  facts  with  polite  assent,  but  made  no 
comment. 

"My  brother  is  much  pleased  with  yours," 
added  Miss  McKnight,  and  this  remark  went 
below  the  surface.  A  happy  color  came  into 


120  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

Marguerite's  cheeks.  "It  is  always  a  matter  of 
thankfulness  when  the  square  peg  gets  into  the 
square  hole  in  this  world.  Apparently  it  is  a 
family  trait  with  you  to  find  your  right  places." 

"We  are  very  fortunate,"  returned  Marguerite, 
speaking  with  feeling,  as  she  absently  retouched 
the  dressy  bit  of  headgear  which  she  now  held  in 
her  hand. 

"My  brother  is  difficult  to  suit,"  her  customer 
went  on,  "but  he  feels  well  content  to  have  se- 
cured so  able  a  man;  one  whose  good  sense  and 
reliability  relieve  him  from  much  care." 

"You  make  me  happy,"  said  Marguerite,  and 
her  lustrous  eyes  and  rosy  tints  made  the  words 
unnecessary. 

"My  brother  isn't  so  young  as  he  once  was," 
continued  Miss  McKnight.  "It  is  almost  as  good 
fortune  for  me  as  for  him  to  know  that  he  has  at 
last  found  a  person  fit  to  fill  the  place  of  the  valu- 
able man  he  lost  last  year;  so  naturally  the  next 
thing  I  want  is  to  see  this  Mr.  Sheldon." 

Marguerite  looked  up  with  eager  frankness. 
"Fritz  will  come  to  see  you,"  she  said  impul- 
sively. 

Miss  McKnight  smiled.  "I  want  him  to,"  was 
her  quiet  answer,  "and  you  also.  How  would  it 
do  for  you  both  to  take  tea  with  me  Sunday  even- 
ing?'; 

This  proposition  took  Marguerite  entirely  by 
surprise.  It  was  the  first  social  advance  which 
had  been  made  to  her  in  Montaigne ;  but  she  was 


AX   AVERTED   DANGER.  121 

a  self-possessed  young  woman,  and  her  face  be- 
trayed nothing  as  she  rapidly  considered  that  here 
was  an  occasion  to  drop  her  defensive  tactics.  It 
woidd  surely  be  a  benefit  to  Fritz  to  be  received 
in  his  employer's  family. 

"Thank  you;  we  should  be  very  glad  to  come," 
she  answered,  after  a  scarcely  appreciable  pause. 

"Then  I  shall  expect  you." 

And  thus  simply  it  was  arranged  that  the  first 
break  should  come  in  the  habit  of  life  this  brother 
and  sister  had  adopted. 

Marguerite  dwelt  upon  the  invitation  with  ela- 
tion after  her  customer  had  gone  away.  She  did 
not  even  think  of  it  as  a  welcome  break  in  her 
own  humdrum  existence,  for  the  girl  had  spoken 
truth  when  she  averred  that  for  her,  life  was  not 
monotonous.  Her  devotion  to  that  big,  steadfast 
brother  of  hers  was  complete.  It  was  the  fact  of 
his  success,  as  proved  by  this  astonishing  advance, 
which  swelled  her  heart  until  the  pressure  forced 
the  happy  moisture  into  her  eyes. 

She  felt  inspired  with  new  confidence  and  joy, 
which  made  her  see  Miss  McKnight's  suggestion 
of  a  visit  to  Katherine  in  a  light  hitherto  impos- 
sible. 

Perhaps  it  woidd  be  a  good  idea  to  call  there, 
ask  as  to  Miss  Orniond's  progress,  and  discover  if 
she  would  like  to  be  shown  those  last  touches 
which  had  been  promised.  All  the  world  was 
rose  color  just  now,  this  plan  sharing  the  happy 
illumination;  so  as  Miss  Laird  had  no  pressing 


122  THE    WISE    WOMAX. 

work  for  the  afternoon,  she  took  off  the  quaint 
gray  garb  which  distinguished  her  in  her  show- 
room, donned  a  street  dress  as  fashionable  as  it 
was  quiet,  and  set  forth  on  her  errand. 

She  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  the  Ormond 
house,  and  arriving  there,  was  shown  into  a  dainty 
room,  her  first  view  of  the  interior  of  an  upper 
class  Montaigne  home.  It  was  charming  to  her 
eye,  with  its  deep  cushioned  window-seats,  harmo- 
nious hangings,  rugs,  and  screens. 

She  had  sent  up  her  business  card,  it  being  the 
only  one  she  possessed,  and  before  she  had  finished 
regarding  the  pictures  and  other  articles  of  inter- 
est about  her,  Madeline  Ormond  entered  the  room, 
the  card  between  her  fingers.  The  girl  intended 
to  address  the  visitor  in  an  offhand  manner,  but 
at  sight  of  the  correctly  garbed  young  lady  before 
her,  she  paused  and  looked  a  second  time.  The 
distinction  of  Marguerite's  appearance  recalled 
Gilbert's  enthusiasm  for  the  stranger-beauty,  while 
it  surprised  Madeline  into  inability  to  say  at  once 
the  patronizing  words  which  were  on  her  tongue. 

"How  do  you  do?  It  seems  to  me  it  is  dark 
here,"  was  what  she  did  say,  moving  at  once  to  a 
window  and  giving  the  shade  a  needless  rearrange- 
ment, lest  she  should  be  involuntarily  betrayed 
into  taking  that  faultlessly  gloved  hand  as  though 
it  were  that  of  any  one  of  her  woman  friends. 

Marguerite  was  surprised  to  see  her.  She  had 
asked  for  Mrs.  Ormond.  Here  was  the  girl  Fritz 
had  cared  for;  whose  charms  had  inoculated  him 


.LV   AVERTED    DANGER.  123 

against  love.  The  two  measured  each  other  with 
a  glance ;  but  Fritz  was  indifferent  now,  indiffer- 
ent. Marguerite's  heart  swelled  triumphantly. 
She  was  still  enjoying  the  glamor  raised  by  Miss 
McKnight's  welcome  words. 

"You  asked  for  my  mother,"  Madeline  said, 
coming  back  and  seating  herself,  "but  she  is  lying 
down.  I  presume  I  shall  do  as  well." 

"Oh,  quite.  I  merely  wished  to  know  how 
your  sister  is  getting  on." 

Madeline  was  still  excited  from  the  breakfast- 
table  conversation  of  that  morning.  Her  imagi- 
nation took  alarm  at  the  fact  that  the  milliner  had 
come  to  call.  She  connected  the  event  with  Jas- 
per McKnight's  attention  to  the  brother  the  night 
before.  It  had  probably  elated  Marguerite  and 
made  her  presumptuous!  In  a  small  place  like 
Montaigne,  trifles  were  important.  One  could  not 
be  too  careful.  Madeline  was  between  two  fires. 
It  would  be  impolitic  to  offend  the  best  of  milli- 
ners, but  she  must  repulse  with  a  firm  hand  Mar- 
guerite the  would-be  friend. 

She  raised  her  eyebrows  in  polite  surprise. 
"Oh,  you  have  taken  too  much  trouble.  My 
sister  is  doing  admirably." 

"  Sufficiently  so  to  wish  to  see  me,  and  practice 
a  little  upon  hat  decorations?" 

"Oh,  Miss  Ormond  has  sent  for  you,  then?  " 

"No,  but  I  am  still  her  debtor,  and  having 
some  spare  time  this  afternoon,  I  came  to  see  if 
she  would  like  my  services." 


124  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Very  good  of  you,  I  'm  sure,"  said  Madeline, 
using  a  coldly  affected  tone  which,  to  do  her  jus- 
tice, she  seldom  employed.  She  felt  herself  in 
straits.  If  Katherine,  with  her  indifference  to 
conventions  and  worldly  wisdom,  were  to  spend 
an  hour  to-day  with  this  attractive  niece  of  Mr. 
Hodgson  in  the  intimacy  of  home,  the  worst  would 
happen.  Relations  would  be  established  which 
could  not  easily  be  unmade.  Fancy  the  other 
girls  seeing  Marguerite  go  in  and  out  of  the  Or- 
mond  house  on  terms  of  equality  and  friendship ! 

"I  am  sure  Miss  Ormond  will  send  for  you 
when  she  feels  like  pursuing  her  fad,"  she  added, 
with  light  indifference.  "You  will  have  a  town 
full  of  rivals,  Marguerite,  the  first  thing  you 
know.  Miss  Arnold  the  other  day  showed  me  an 
evening  bonnet  she  had  made,  and  really  at  first 
glance  one  would  not  suspect  it  was  of  home  man- 
ufacture. She  is  nearly  as  clumsy  with  the  needle 
as  I  am,  and  you  deserve  proportionate  credit." 

The  roseate  glamor  which  began  to  pale  at 
Madeline's  entrance  had  now  entirely  faded. 
Marguerite  felt  that  she  had  put  herself  in  the 
way  of  her  first  snub,  and  had  received  it.  She 
had  not  attained  to  that  lofty  humility  where 
slights  cannot  hurt,  but  she  was  too  much  mis- 
tress of  herself  to  betray  feeling. 

"Then  I  will  go  back,"  she  said  simply,  rising. 
"  I  am  pleased  to  hear  that  Miss  Ormond  is  pro- 
gressing well." 

Madeline   rose  too.      "You   and   your   brother 


AN   AVERTED    DANGER.  125 

were  good  Samaritans  to  her,"  she  said;  and  the 
embarrassment  of  the  moment  impelled  her  to  add 
the  very  thing  she  would  have  left  unsaid :  "  We 
were  surprised  to  find  in  Mr.  Sheldon  an  old 
acquaintance." 

Marguerite's  steady,  dignified  look  returned  her 
uneasy  glance.  "Yes,  my  brother  has  told  me 
that  you  and  he  knew  each  other  well  in  past 
days." 

If  it  was  any  gratification  to  the  speaker  to  see 
a  flood  of  red  pour  over  Madeline's  delicate  face, 
she  had  it.  The  girl  could  not  reply.  How  much 
knowledge  of  those  aquatic  flirtations  lay  behind 
the  clear  blue  eyes  that  composedly  regarded  her 
unwilling  blush? 

Where  was  the  light  and  easy  tone  of  patronage 
with  which  she  would  have  liked  to  speed  the  part- 
ing guest?  Instead,  a  lame,  inarticulate  murmur 
died  away  on  her  lips  as  Marguerite  made  her 
exit,  and  then  Madeline  stood  a  moment  in  quiet 
thoughtfulness  before  stealing  upstairs  to  her 
room. 

Katherine  had  doubtless  heard  their  voices.  If 
she  gave  her  time  to  forget,  perhaps  her  sister 
would  not  make  the  inquiries  which  were  bound 
to  be  awkward.  Not  that  Madeline  repented  her 
tactics.  She  only  condemned  the  stupidity  which 
had  humiliated  her  at  the  termination  of  the  inter- 
view; still,  on  the  whole,  it  might  have  been 
worse.  Marguerite  was  safely  off,  and  Katherine 
had  not  seen  her. 


126  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

She  had  heard  her  though,  or  rather  heard 
indistinctly  some  strange  voice  speaking  with 
Madeline,  and  she  had  not  forgotten  the  circum- 
stance by  the  time  she  next  saw  her  sister. 

"What  caller  was  with  you  this  afternoon?" 
she  asked.  "I  am  so  tired  of  myself  I  hoped  you 
were  going  to  bring  her  to  see  me,  whoever  she 
was." 

Madeline  assumed  an  indifference  she  did  not 
entirely  feel. 

"  Oh,  no.  It  was  none  of  our  friends.  It  was 
Marguerite.  She  stopped  to  inquire  how  you 
were." 

"What  Marguerite?"  Katherine  was  excited 
at  once.  "Not  Miss  Laird!  " 

"I  don't  wonder  you  are  surprised.  It  was 
certainly  an  odd  thing  for  her  to  do;  yet  it  may 
come  within  her  ideas  of  drumming  up  business." 

"  Madeline !  Why  did  n't  you  tell  me  ?  What 
were  you  thinking  of  ?  " 

"I  am  telling  you,  child.  What  is  the  matter 
with  you?  " 

"But  didn't  she  want  to  see  me?"  Kather- 
ine's  eyes,  always  pathetic  when  not  twinkling 
with  fun,  inspected  her  sister  earnestly. 

"  She  did  n't  say  so. "  Madeline  rapidly  decided 
to  tell  the  truth,  much  as  she  disliked  to,  not 
only  because  it  was  her  habit,  but  because  Kath- 
erine would  surely  find  it  out  some  time ;  so  she 
added:  "She  offered  to  give  you  your  finishing 
lesson." 


AN  AVERTED    DANGER.  127 

"Why  didn't  you  bring  her  in,  then?  You 
knew  I  wanted  it.  You  are  too  bad.  I  shall 
send  for  her! " 

The  two  girls  looked  at  each  other  in  silence, 
the  elder  resentful,  the  younger  cold  and  deter- 
mined. 

"I  knew  that  you  would  perhaps  be  vexed  with 
me,"  returned  Madeline,  privately  astonished  after 
all  that  her  gentle  sister  should  show  so  much  feel- 
ing, "but  I  acted  for  the  best,  and  I  believe  you 
will  agree  that  I  did,  if  you  will  be  cool  and  dis- 
cuss the  matter  a  little.  You  surely  have  n't  for- 
gotten what  mother  said  to  Gilbert  this  morning 
at  breakfast.  It  applies  now.  We  wish  to  keep 
our  relation  with  those  people  a  strictly  business 
one.  If  I  had  brought  Marguerite  in  here  this 
afternoon,  ask  yourself  honestly  if  she  would  not 
have  gained  a  foothold  that  would  have  changed 
our  status  with  her  ever  afterward." 

"She  is  a  bright,  clever,  dignified  girl,  whom  I 
should  be  proud  to  have  for  a  friend,"  said  Kath- 
erine  with  feeling. 

"There  it  is,  you  see,"  returned  Madeline.  "As 
long  as  you  live  in  mother's  house,  you  have  no 
right  to  bring  people  here  whom  she  disapproves." 

Katherine  controlled  herself  with  an  effort. 
"Marguerite  is  an  artist,"  she  said  quietly.  "If 
she  happened  to  dabble  in  oils  instead  of  ribbons, 
society  would  pet  her." 

"Exactly,"  agreed  Madeline. 

"Is   our   position   so   precarious   that  you  are 


128  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

afraid  to  have  such  a  friend?"  asked  Katherine. 
"Pardon  me  for  using  strong  language,  but  your 
attitude  seems  contemptible  to  me." 

"Judge  for  yourself  by  all  means  when  you 
have  your  own  home,"  returned  Madeline,  too 
much  alarmed  at  her  sister's  infatuation  to  lose 
her  temper.  "Here  comes  mother.  Let  us  have 
this  matter  understood  once  for  all."  Mrs.  Or- 
mond  came  in,  surprised  at  the  excitement  in  her 
children's  faces,  and  Madeline  recounted  to  her 
the  events  of  the  afternoon. 

"You  are  the  arbiter  in  this  matter,"  she  fin- 
ished. "I  have  said  all  I  can  to  influence  Kath- 
erine; but  she  evidently  does  not  intend  to  drop 
her  artist  in  ribbons  to  please  me.  She  will 
bring  ridicule  and  discomfort  on  us  all  if  she  goes 
on.  The  very  fact  that  Marguerite  has  become 
such  a  prominent  figure  makes  it  worse.  If  she 
were  a  nobody  whom  Katherine  chose  to  take  up, 
the  situation  would  be  much  less  annoying  than  it 
is  now." 

"There  seems  to  be  a  mistake,"  said  Katherine, 
before  her  mother  could  speak.  "Madeline  jumps 
at  the  conclusion  that  Marguerite  wishes  to  be 
taken  up  and  befriended.  She  is,  on  the  con- 
trary, the  most  independent  and  self-sufficient 
person  of  her  age  that  I  ever  came  in  contact 
with.  I  have  had  to  feel  my  way  even  into  an 
acquaintance  with  her.  She  interests  me,  she 
fascinates  me,  more  than  any  girl  I  know." 

Madeline  gave  a  little  laugh.      "No  other  girl 


AN  AVERTED   DANGER.  129 

you  know  has  the  advantage  of  being  related  to 
Pokonet.  Remember,  nobody  asks  you  to  be  un- 
kind to  this  paragon.  She  isn't  injured  by  us 
any  more  than  her  brother  was.  You  remember 
you  felt  inclined  to  shed  tears  over  him  at  one 
time,  and  now  you  have  had  ocular  proof  that  he 
is  as  good  as  new." 

"Children!  My  dear  girls,"  said  Mrs.  Or- 
mond,  "let  me  speak.  I  must  admit,  Katherine, 
that  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that  you  are  bewitched 
with  this  bright  young  woman.  Your  sister's 
forethought  was  admirable  this  afternoon.  Be  as 
friendly  with  her  as  you  like,  or  rather  as  you 
must,  in  her  shop,  although  I  should  be  glad  if 
you  determined  not  to  go  there  any  more.  We 
owe  a  duty  to  our  friends.  It  would  be  wrong 
to  them  to  allow  it  to  be  possible  to  meet  this 
Marguerite  socially  in  our  house.  If  you  don't 
see  it  so,  my  dear  Katherine,  you  are  temporarily 
infatuated,  and  before  the  winter  is  over  you 
will  thank  me  for  saving  you  from  yourself." 

Katherine  felt  sore,  impatient,  rebellious. 

"I  shall  respect  your  wishes,  mother,"  she  said, 
"but  of  all  the  absurd  tempests  that  ever  raged  in 
teapots,  this  is  the  fussiest.  Madeline  probably 
snubbed  Miss  Laird  in  her  terror  this  after- 
noon " 

"I  did  not,"  declared  the  other  calmly. 

"And  there  is  no  danger  of  her  coining  again. 
I  have  missed  a  great  pleasure,  but  Mrs.  Grundy 
has  been  properly  sacrificed  to,  and  the  Ormond 


130  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

family,  though  not  entirely  sans  peur,  is  yet  so 
far  sans  reproche." 

"I  think  she  is  safe,"  said  Madeline  to  her 
mother  afterward.  The  determined  younger  sis- 
ter had  passed  an  unpleasant  quarter  of  an  hour, 
but  she  felt  repaid. 


CHAPTER  X. 

MARGUERITE    CONSULTS   THE   ORACLE. 

THERE  was  no  family  in  Montaigne  whose 
friendship  Mrs.  Ormond  valued  more  highly  than 
the  McKiiights'.  Gilbert  and  Jasper  had  been 
in  the  same  class  at  college ;  then  when  one  went 
into  the  law  school  and  the  other  into  the  study 
of  medicine,  Mrs.  Ormond  and  Miss  McKnight 
kept  up  an  interest  in  each  other's  boys,  which 
the  former  had  never  allowed  to  flag. 

The  McKnight  homestead  stood  on  the  brow  of 
a  hill  in  a  well-kept  park.  Solid  and  handsome 
without,  luxurious  and  tasteful  within,  it  gratified 
Mrs.  Ormond 's  soul  to  visit  there,  and  added  a 
hundredfold  to  that  philanthropic  affection  and 
solicitude  which  Jasper  and  his  career  always 
inspired  in  her.  To  stand  on  the  veranda  of  the 
spacious  house  and  look  down  upon  the  surround- 
ing country  through  natural  avenues  of  fine  old 
trees  uplifted  her  to  heights  of  aesthetic  pleasure 
and  material  comfort,  and  made  her  feel  that  if 
any  earthly  consideration  could  make  it  a  pleasure 
to  be  called  "grandma,"  it  would  be  to  hear  the 
word  from  prattlers  who  crept  about  these  piazzas 
and  called  them  home. 


132  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

Miss  MeKnight  had  lived  the  quietest  of  lives 
during  her  nephew's  recent  absence  in  Europe, 
but  her  intimacy  with  the  Ormonds  had  not  been 
allowed  to  drop.  Mrs.  Ormond  had  stolen  time 
from  her  engagements  at  least  weekly  to  drop  in 
upon  her  dear  friend,  hear  the  latest  news  from 
Jasper,  and  talk  to  his  aunt  of  the  doings  of  the 
important  little  society  world  of  Montaigne.  She 
smiled  benevolently  on  Katherine's  weakness  for 
Miss  MeKnight' s  society.  For  a  long  time  she 
did  not  believe  in  its  disinterestedness,  although 
secretly  approving  of  her  child's  discretion;  but 
she  was  forced  at  last  to  admit  wonderingly  that 
what  she  herself  did  on  principle,  Katherine  did 
for  pure  pleasure.  Katherine  was  an  odd,  some- 
times a  puzzling  child,  but  Madeline  was  always 
entirely  comprehensible. 

Madeline  and  her  mother  frequently  drove  their 
little  pony  carriage  to  the  McKnights'  on  a  Sun- 
day afternoon.  Miss  MeKnight  did  not  encourage 
indiscriminate  Sunday  visiting,  and  they  liked 
to  go  on  that  day  to  emphasize  their  intimate 
relations. 

The  following  Sunday  Mrs.  Ormond  proposed 
one  of  these  visits. 

"Let  us  have  a  family  sleigh-ride,"  suggested 
Gilbert.  "Katherine  is  to  make  her  de'but  into 
the  world  again,  and  I  suppose  there  is  no  pil- 
grimage she  would  rather  make  than  one  to  the 
shrine  of  the  Wise  Woman." 

Katherine  assented  with    alacrity;   but   guests 


MARGUERITE    CONSULTS    THE    ORACLE.       133 

dropping  in  during  the  afternoon  delayed  their 
start.  Mrs.  Ormond  demurred  about  taking  their 
invalid  out  at  sunset,  but  Gilbert  overrode  her  ob- 
jections, and  the  four  set  forth  for  the  park. 

"The  beautifid  outdoors,"  said  Katherine, 
drawing  a  deep  breath.  "You  poor  people  can- 
not half  appreciate  it." 

"Won't  Jasper  be  surprised  to  see  you!  "  ejacu- 
lated Mrs.  Ormond  with  satisfaction.  "You  are 
not  disobeying  him,  are  you,  Katherine,  dear?" 

"It  is  Katherine 's  ankle,"  said  Madeline  shortly. 
"I  suppose  she  can  tell  better  than  Jasper  how  it 
feels  to  step  on  it." 

"The  needles  are  nearly  all  gone  out  of  it,"  said 
Katherine.  "I  am  really  encouraged  to-day  to 
believe  that  I  am  out  of  light  prison  at  last  for 
good." 

"You  must  do  just  as  Jasper  says,  however," 
returned  Mrs.  Ormond  with  unction.  "I  wonder 
what  he  will  say  when  he  sees  you !  " 

But  the  young  doctor  was  not  to  see  his  patient 
to-day.  He  was  not  in  the  spacious,  shaded,  fire- 
lit  room,  where  the  guests  were  shown.  Miss 
McKnight  arose  from  the  group  around  the  hearth 
and  greeted  Katherine  with  enthusiasm. 

"How  good  of  you  all  to  bring  her  here  on  her 
first  outing.  That  is  as  it  should  be.  We  are 
enjoying  blindman's  holiday,  and  you  can  scarcely 
see  each  other,"  she  went  on;  "but  here  is  my 
brother,  whom  you  all  know,  and  here  are  Miss 
Laird  and  Mr.  Sheldon,  whom  some  of  you  know, 


134  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

I  am  certain.  Mrs.  Ormond,  Miss  Ormond,  Miss 
Madeline,  and  Mr.  Gilbert  Ormond." 

Mrs.  Ormond  gasped.  Madeline  pinched  her- 
self, Katherine  beamed,  Gilbert  smiled,  the  whole 
group  standing  and  hovering  about  one  another 
like  ghosts  in  the  fantastic  firelight,  while  Fritz 
Sheldon  helped  the  hostess  to  offer  more  chairs, 
and  seat  her  guests. 

Katherine  managed  to  glide  into  a  place  next 
Marguerite.  "You  were  so  kind  to  come  in  and 
ask  for  me  the  other  day,"  she  said,  with  charac- 
teristic pretty  earnestness. 

"It  is  a  pleasant  surprise  to  see  you  out  again," 
returned  Marguerite.  "Those  miserable  sprains 
lay  one  up  still  longer  sometimes." 

Mrs.  Ormond  began  to  inquire  of  Mr.  Mc- 
Knight  concerning  his  health  with  a  fervent  solici- 
tude and  detail  which  would  have  charmed  a 
hypochondriac,  but  which  caused  that  hale  old 
gentleman  to  wonder  what  in  the  name  of  sense 
the  woman  was  after;  while  Madeline  clung  as 
tenaciously  to  Miss  McKnight,  and  Gilbert,  feel- 
ing that  he  had  come  to  the  pleasantest  sort  of 
surprise  party,  began  to  recount  to  his  friend 
Sheldon  the  obstacles  which  a  perverse  Fate  had 
thrown  in  the  way  of  his  visiting  him. 

"Jasper  will  be  so  sorry  to  have  missed  you," 
said  Miss  McKnight  to  Madeline. 

"I  believe  he  is  usually  at  Dr.  Granbury's  at 
this  hour,"  returned  the  girl,  speaking  at  random. 

"No,  not  so  early  as  this.  To-day  is  some 
special  occasion."" 


MARGUERITE    CONSULTS    THE    ORACLE.      135 

"I  dare  say  he  made  one,"  thought  Madeline, 
"and  who  can  blame  him?"  She  was  still  un- 
comfortably stirred  by  the  surprise  of  finding 
Marguerite  in  house  dress  sitting  en  famitte  at 
this  exclusive  fireside. 

As  soon  as  Mrs.  Ormond  decently  could,  she 
determined  to  rid  herself  of  the  objectionable  sight 
of  her  daughter's  happy  tete-a-tete  in  the  corner 
with  the  milliner. 

"You  know  it  really  will  not  do  for  us  to  stay 
excepting  for  the  most  formal  call  to-day,  dear 
Miss  McKnight.  It  is  Katherine's  first  venture, 
and  Jasper  would  have  a  right  to  scold  us  if  we 
kept  her  out  after  it  gets  too  cold.  Gilbert,  come, 
dear.  Madeline,  are  you  ready?" 

"A  half  an  hour  more  or  less  won't  make  a 
particle  of  difference,"  protested  Gilbert,  who  was 
deep  in  a  discussion  with  Sheldon  of  a  new  by-law 
proposed  for  the  Athletic  Club. 

"Let  me  be  the  judge  to-day,"  said  Mrs.  Or- 
mond suavely.  "We  will  go  at  once,  please." 

They  did  go  at  once,  and  dead  silence  fell  upon 
the  party  as  they  drove  through  the  park,  where 
the  snow  lay  pure  white  and  heavy  on  the  ever- 
green boughs,  and  a  new  moon  shone  through  the 
skeleton  branches  of  the  elms. 

"Tom  Sheldon  has  fallen  on  his  feet,"  an- 
nounced Gilbert  cheerily,  at  last. 

"Is  he  taken  into  the  club?"  asked  Madeline 
quickly. 

"Oh,  that  isn't  settled  yet.     It  is  something 


136  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

more  important.  He  has  a  good  position  in  the 
McKnight  Works.  It  sviits  him  down  to  the 
ground,  and  that  he  suits  it  was  pretty  well  proved 
just  now." 

"I  —  should  —  think  so !  "  returned  Mrs.  Or- 
mond  impressively.  "That  then  explains  it,"  she 
added  after  a  minute,  in  a  relieved  tone.  "I 
couldn't  possibly  understand  the  situation,  but 
this  makes  it  clear.  Mr.  McKnight  must  indeed 
value  that  young  man  to  have  asked  Edna  to  show 
him  such  civility,  and  of  course  he  could  not 
be  invited  without  his  sister.  Miss  McKnight's 
Sundays  are  so  quiet,  I  suppose  she  thought  no- 
body would  know.  It  was  our  evil  genius  which 
suggested  our  going  up  there  to-day.  Poor  Edna, 
how  she  must  have  felt  to  see  us  file  in ;  but  she 
behaved  well,  I  must  say.  Her  self-possession 
was  as  natural  as  ever." 

"It  is  just  possible  that  she  was  not  disturbed," 
suggested  Katherine. 

"I  was  n't  at  all  pleased  with  you,  my  dear," 
returned  her  mother  severely.  "Your  manner  to 
that  young  woman  was  intimate,  almost  affection- 
ate. Can  we  not  induce  you  to  have  any  fore- 
sight?" 

"Don't  you  want  me  to  be  nice  to  the  Wise 
Woman's  friends? "  asked  the  girl  demurely, 
happy  excitement  sparkling  in  her  eyes. 

"Miss  McKnight's  wisdom  will  surely  prove 
equal  to  this  occasion,"  returned  Mrs.  Ormond 
dryly.  "She  has  done  this  to  please  her  brother, 


MARGUERITE    CONSULTS    THE    ORACLE.      137 

but  you  notice  Jasper  was  not  in  evidence.  Mark 
my  words,  he  regrets  now  his  foolish  action  in 
behalf  of  that  Sheldon.  What  does  an  old  man 
like  Robert  McKnight  know  of  social  laws?  You 
will  make  a  grand  mistake  if  you  count  on  Miss 
McKnight  to  uphold  you  in  the  course  you  would 
like  to  take.  If  you  had  her  age  and  position, 
you  could  venture  upon  such  an  action  as  hers 
this  afternoon,  but  you  have  n't,  remember." 

So  Mrs.  Ormond  arrived  home  soothed  by  her 
generous  compassion  for  her  old  friend  discovered 
in  an  awkward  situation,  and  by  dint  of  dwelling 
upon  Miss  McKnight 's  probable  discomfort  she 
became  once  more  reconciled  to  the  world. 

The  object  of  her  commiseration  had  at  once 
upon  the  guests'  departure  seated  herself  again 
by  Miss  Laird. 

"I  am  so  glad  Miss  Ormond  happened  in,"  she 
said  heartily.  "  I  know  it  was  a  pleasure  to  her 
to  find  you  here." 

"She  is  always  very  cordial,"  returned  Mar- 
guerite. 

"Oh,  she's  a  nice  girl!"  declared  Miss  Mc- 
Knight, speaking  half  to  herself. 

"Her  mother  objected  to  her  cordiality  in  this 
instance." 

"Did  you  think  so?" 

"I  am  sure  of  it."  The  girl  regarded  her 
entertainer  with  a  doubtful  yet  winning  smile. 
"Miss  Katherine  has  just  been  reminding  me  that 
you  are  her  Wise  Woman  whom  she  told  me  of 


138  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

some  time  ago.  That  must  explain  the  strong 
desire  you  have  aroused  in  me  to  confide  in  you 
and  consult  you.  Perhaps  it  is  not  right  for  me 
to  begin  at  the  very  first  opportunity  to  take  your 
thought  for  my  personal  affairs,  but  the  time  and 
place  are  tempting.  My  brother  is  so  engrossed 
with  Mr.  McKnight  just  now  that  he  will  not 
hear  me.  I  want  to  ask  you  an  important  ques- 
tion." 

"Ask,  my  dear.  What  are  old  women  for  but 
to  help  young  ones?" 

"Oh,  how  fortunate  I  am,"  said  Marguerite 
with  a  fervor  that  touched  her  hostess,  "  that  such 
a  woman  as  you  should  have  come  to  take  an 
interest  in  me!  I  can  lean  so  firmly  on  what  you 
say." 

Marguerite's  strong  and  magnetic  personality 
was  such  that  Miss  McKnight  felt  this  speech  to 
be  flattering. 

"This  is  the  question:  How  much  difference 
would  it  make  in  my  brother's  career  to  be  in 
society?" 

"Not  so  much  as  if  he  were  a  professional 
man." 

"But  it  would  make  some  difference?" 

"Oh,  good  society  is  a  good  thing  in  modera- 
tion. If  your  brother  rises  to  be  a  successful  busi- 
ness man,  he  will  have  some  social  duties,  —  make 
a  society  of  his  own,  perhaps." 

"  My  questions  may  sound  foolish  to  you,  Miss 
McKnight,  for  Fritz  and  I  were  two  country  chil- 


MARGUERITE    CONSULTS   THE    ORACLE.      139 

dren  who,  as  we  grew  up,  managed  to  get  an  edu- 
cation, and  coming  to  a  strange  place  have  started 
life  in  a  humble  way,  as  you  know.  You  proba- 
bly in  your  heart  think  it  absurd  that  social  ques- 
tions should  vex  me.  They  would  not,  I  assure 
you,  if  my  conscience  would  let  them  rest.  We 
are  very  content.  Fritz  loves  his  work  and  I  love 
mine.  If  it  were  only  for  my  own  pleasure,  I  am 
sure  I  should  go  on  making  things  for  women  to 
wear  on  their  heads.  In  the  horse-cars  and  in 
shops  I  am  always  in  my  mind  concocting  arrange- 
ments to  make  the  plain  women  look  distinguished, 
and  the  pretty  ones  beautiful." 

Miss  McKnight  laughed  softly.  "It  is  a  clear 
case  of  art  for  art's  sake,"  she  murmured. 

"So  you  see  our  obscurity  is  nothing  to  me, 
but  I  cannot  rid  myself  of  the  feeling  that  without 
me  Fritz  would  cease  to  be  obscure.  He  is  edu- 
cated, he  is  presentable.  In  a  dress  suit  he  might 
pass  for  one  of  the  Four  Hundred."  Marguerite 
gave  a  sad  little  smile.  "Have  I  any  right  to 
stay  with  him;  have  I  " 

A  dry  sob  caught  in  the  girl's  throat,  and  she 
stopped  for  half  a  minute,  then  continued,  — 

"This  is  the  first  time  I  have  expressed  my 
feeling  to  any  one.  It  would  be  folly  to  speak  of 
it  to  Fritz,  for  he  would  laugh  down  the  very  idea 
of  my  leaving  him;  but  I  am  dreadfully  certain 
that  I  shall  be,  am  already,  a  drawback  to  him. 
Straws  show  which  way  the  wind  blows.  I  called 
at  the  Ormonds'  a  few  days  ago  to  ask  for  Miss 


140  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

Katherine,  and  hoped  I  might  see  her.  Miss 
Madeline  received  me.  She  also  dismissed  me. 
I  need  not  go  into  detail.  She  was  civil,  but  she 
showed  me  unmistakably  that  a  call  from  Mar- 
guerite was  presumption.  See  how  plainly  I  talk 
to  you.  I  surprise  myself." 

"Did  you  tell  your  brother  of  your  experi- 
ence?" 

"No,  indeed.  The  least  hurt  to  me  is  a  severe 
one  to  him.  If  I  go  away  from  Montaigne,  —  if 
I  leave  him,  it  will  have  to  be  done  in  a  way  to 
quiet  utterly  his  suspicion  that  it  is  for  his  sake." 

"You  would  dread  to  go  away  from  him?  " 
asked  Miss  McKnight  kindly. 

"Fritz  is  my  world,"  answered  Marguerite 
quietly.  "From  the  time  we  lost  our  mother  and 
were  separated,  it  was  the  one  thing  I  lived  and 
worked  for,  to  rejoin  him.  We  have  been  so 
happy  until  this  little  gnawing  question  crept  into 
my  heart.  Dr.  McKnight  has  proposed  him  at 
a  fashionable  club.  My  mind  leaps  forward  and 
sees  what  will  come  later.  Social  affairs  where 
Fritz  might  be  popular  but  for  me,  and  although 
he  would  say  and  feel  that  he  cared  nothing  for 
that  sort  of  success  and  laugh  the  whole  idea  to 
scorn,  I  know  it  would  be  to  his  advantage  to 
meet  socially  people  of  refinement  and  position. 
We  have  n't  that  valuable  heritage  of  cultivation 
that  descends  to  those  whose  fathers  and  grand- 
fathers were  brought  up  in  homes  where  the  best 
books  and  pictures  and  music  were  familiar  topics, 


MARGUERITE    CONSULTS    THE    ORACLE.      141 

people  whose  every  minute  was  not  occupied  in 
the  strife  for  daily  bread.  Our  fathers  and  grand- 
fathers kept  country  stores  and  worked  on  their 
farms,  and  our  heritage  is  health  and  ambition. 
I  want  Fritz's  children  to  be  born  in  a  desirable 
social  circle;  not  a  fashionable  one,  necessarily, 
but  an  intellectual  one.  They  go  together  usually, 
don't  they?" 

"Very  often  they  do,"  replied  Miss  McKnight. 

Marguerite  heaved  a  deep,  unconscious  sigh. 
"Sometimes  I  wish  I  had  come  here,  and,  without 
trying  to  earn  anything,  lived  on  bread  and  water 
with  him  until  he  was  fairly  launched,  or,  better 
yet,  not  have  come  at  all  until  he  was  on  his  feet. 
Yet  how  much  pleasure  we  should  have  missed 
that  our  mutual  affection  and  sympathy  have 
afforded  us.  We  could  not  know  how  long  his 
probation  would  continue,  and  I  felt  elated  and 
jubilant  to  find  I  could  really  help  him.  Alas, 
to  think  that  very  assistance  is  the  crime  he  and 
I  must  both  be  punished  for  now.  Is  n't  there 
something  wrong,  Miss  McKuight,  when  my  in- 
dustry alone  is  considered  to  unfit  me  for  associa- 
tion with  people  no  better  born  or  educated?" 

"  There  is,  my  dear.  Happily,  it  is  not  a  large 
element  in  our  country -which  looks  down  on  trade, 
and  the  equality  of  the  sexes  which  is  slowly  being 
recognized  will  bring  about  a  new  state  of  things. 
Women  in  the  professions  are  socially  eligible 
already,  and  some  day  a  woman  milliner  will  hold 
as  good  a  position  as  a  man  milliner  does  to-day." 


142  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"It  goes  through  me  like  a  knife  to  think  of 
leaving  Fritz."  The  girl  shivered. 

"Don't  think  of  it  until  I  have  thought. 
Brains  that  have  worked  as  many  years  as  mine 
move  slowly.  Keep  up  heart,  Miss  Marguerite. 
Your  fears  are  perhaps  like  gigantic  shadows  on 
a  curtain.  A  little  stronger  light  will  decrease 
them." 

"You  of  all  people  must  not  put  the  Miss  be- 
fore my  name,"  said  the  girl  impulsively,  com- 
forted vaguely  by  the  other's  tone.  "Oh,  that 
name !  It  was  a  bit  of  childish  audacity  to  em- 
blazon it  on  my  window.  Why  did  n't  I  make 
hats  in  some  quiet  corner  under  no  name  at  all !  " 

"People  don't  like  their  hats  made  that  way. 
I  assure  you,  I  for  one  am  proud  of  that  neat  little 
gilt  '  Marguerite '  in  the  crown  of  my  bonnet.  I 
turn  it  wrong  side  up  as  frequently  as  possible 
when  there  is  anybody  about  whom  I  wish  to 
impress." 

The  milliner  regarded  her  new  friend  with  a 
look  of  gratitude;  but  her  brother  that  moment 
approaching,  she  made  no  other  answer. 

Just  before  the  guests  took  their  departure, 
Miss  McKnight  found  opportunity  to  speak  alone 
once  more  with  Marguerite.  She  had  been  ob- 
serving the  girl  carefully  all  the  evening,  and  her 
observations  had  confirmed  her  favorable  impres- 
sions. 

"Is  your  brother's  income  sufficient  to  support 
you  both?  "  she  asked. 


MARGUERITE    CONSULTS    THE    ORACLE.      143 

Marguerite  looked  grave  and  anxious.  "It  is, 
but  I  don't  want  it  to.  That  alternative  would 
be  almost  as  hard  as  the  other.  I  want  Fritz  to 
lay  up  money  against  the  awful  day  when  he  is 
manned." 

Miss  McKnight  smiled.  "I  have  been  think- 
ing," she  said,  "and  my  first  bit  of  advice  to  you 
is  to  take  your  name  off  your  window  and  door." 

"  Then  you  want  me  —  you  think  I  would  better 
go  out  of  business!  "  returned  the  other,  startled. 

"No.  You  can  carry  it  on  a  little  differently. 
The  urgency  of  the  case  is  n't  so  great  as  it  was. 
You  do  not  need  all  the  '  properties  '  of  the  pres- 
ent trade." 

"I  am  accustomed  to  thinking  for  myself,"  said 
Marguerite,  after  a  pause,  "and  I  am  not  sure  I 
see  your  drift ;  but  I  consider  it  a  great  blessing 
to  have  enlisted  your  interest.  You  will  let  our 
talk  of  this  evening  be  confidential?" 

"Strictly  so."  Miss  McKnight  slowly  nodded 
her  stately  head.  "Have  your  name  taken  off. 
Perhaps  it  cannot  be  done  at  once,  but  let  it  be 
done  as  soon  as  possible." 

The  milliner  regarded  her  wistfully.  "I  wish 
I  knew  "  - 

Her  hostess  laughed.  "It  is  hard  for  the  inde- 
pendent child  to  let  herself  be  led  blindly."  She 
patted  her  guest's  arm. 

Marguerite  flushed.  "Forgive  me.  I  won't  be 
one  of  those  who  ask  advice  and  then  refuse  it, 
only  —  what's  in  a  name?  I  don't  see  how  it 


144  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

will  help  matters  at  this  late  day.  I  shall  be 
there,  —  as  obstinate  and  objectionable  a  fact  as 
ever."  She  gave  a  doleful  little  laugh. 

"I  have  a  nebulous  sort  of  scheme  in  my  head," 
said  Miss  McKnight.  "I  will  tell  you  more, 
later." 

"Fritz,"  said  the  milliner,  as  they  rolled  home- 
ward, tucked  into  a  crimson -lined  sleigh,  "I  have 
decided  to  please  you,  and  take  my  name  off  the 
window." 

"Oh,  I  have  grown  used  to  it,  now,"  said  the 
young  man  philosophically;  "I  don't  mind  it  so 
much.  Still,  I  shall  be  glad  if  you  think  you  will 
do  just  as  well  without  it." 

Marguerite  was  far  from  sure  she  should  do  as 
well  without  it,  but  she  said  nothing,  and  both 
brother  and  sister  fell  into  a  reverie  under  the 
frosty  stars. 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE   AID   SOCIETY. 

"ARE  you  going  out  by  yourself,  Katherine ?  " 
asked  Mrs.  Ormond,  as  her  daughter  passed 
through  her  room  one  morning  soon  after. 

"Yes,  mother.  Daring,  isn't  it?  but  I  have  a 
tongue  in  my  head,  and  money  in  my  pocket,  and 
with  those  two  advantages  you  have  always  told 
me  to  be  fearless." 

"Plow  does  the  ankle  feel?  Weak?  Hadn't 
you  better  have  a  coupe?" 

"No,  I  thank  you.  I  need  only  walk  to  the 
car.  Then  I  can  ride  wherever  I  like." 

Mrs.  Ormond  regarded  her  child  critically. 
"That  hat  is  very  becoming.  I  do  hope  you  will 
get  some  color  into  your  cheeks.  Where  are  you 
going?" 

"To  Marguerite's  to  take  my  last  lesson.  Then 
send  in  your  orders,  Mrs.  Ormond.  You  will 
find  my  price  as  low  as  is  compatible  with  the 
high  class  of  work."  Katherine  kissed  her  mother 
with  a  flourish  and  was  leaving,  but  the  latter 
detained  her. 

"One  minute,  Katherine."  Mrs.  Ormond  bit 
her  lip  undecidedly.  "  Are  you  going  in  the  right 
spirit?" 


146  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Yes,  ma'am.  With  charity  for  all  and  malice 
toward  none." 

"I  should  like  to  trust  you,  my  dear,"  feelingly. 

"I  should  like  to  have  you,  please  'm." 

Mrs.  Ormond  looked  with  unabated  gravity  into 
the  laughing  face.  "I  should  far  rather  never 
have  you  make  a  hat  or  a  bonnet,"  she  said  slowly, 
"than  to  have  you  visit  that  milliner  this  morn- 
ing, or  any  other  morning,  if  I  considered  only 
myself.  Remaining  away  altogether  would  be 
acting  on  the  safe  side ;  but  I  know  your  heart  is 
set  on  carrying  through  whatever  you  begin,  and 
you  are  such  a  dear,  industrious  child,  I  cannot 
bear  to  thwart  you.  One  recollection  I  want  you 
to  carry  with  you.  I  will  not  have  that  girl  visit- 
ing at  my  house.  Bear  that  in  mind,  and  say 
nothing  which  might  get  you  into  an  awkward 
position.  I  know  you  don't  approve  my  decision. 
You  would  like  to  pet  her  for  the  Hodgsons'  sake, 
if  for  nothing  else ;  but  it  cannot  be  done.  We 
have  been  over  the  arguments  sufficiently.  You 
have  friends  enough  now,  and  the  smart  milliner 
is  happy  in  her  own  walk  of  life.  Let  her  alone." 

"The  Wise  Woman"    -  began  Katherine. 

"Miss  McKnight  had  her  reasons  for  permit- 
ting that  strange  occurrence.  It  will  end  right 
there.  You  will  see.  Why,  Katherine,"  Mrs. 
Ormond's  voice  took  on  a  more  solemn  note,  "think 
of  this !  Your  brother  actually  reproached  me  for 
hurrying  through  our  visit  on  Sunday,  saying  that 
he  had  had  no  opportunity  for  talking  with  Miss 


THE   AID    SOCIETY.  147 

Laird.  Gilbert  talking  with  Miss  Laird  in  social 
fashion!  Think  of  it.  She  is  a  good-looking 
girl,  and  young  men  are  perfectly  heedless.  Do 
yon  want  people  to  begin  to  say  that  the  Ormonds, 
brother  and  sister,  are  hand  and  glove  with  the 
milliner  Marguerite  ?  That  is  what  would  happen 
in  a  week,  if  you  had  your  way." 

"You  won't  believe,  mother,"  broke  out  Kath- 
erine,  "that  she  is  worthy  to  be  any  one's  friend. 
You  don't  know  her." 

"Another  word  of  that  kind,  and  it  will  be  my 
duty  to  forbid  your  going  near  her!"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Orrnond  in  exasperation. 

Katherine  shrugged  her  shoulder.  "  You  need  n't 
worry,"  she  answered.  "I  won't  bring  mortifica- 
tion on  " 

"That  is  my  good  child!" 

"On  Marguerite,  I  was  going  to  say." 

"Quite  right,  Katherine.  Any  motive  you  like, 
so  it  brings  about  the  required  result;  and  don't 
forget  to  be  home  in  time  for  the  society." 

Miss  Ormond  set  forth,  rebellion  in  her  heart. 
Opposition  added  fuel  to  the  flame  of  her  roman- 
tic admiration;  but  she  had  her  comforting 
thoughts.  Gilbert  sympathized  in  her  opinions, 
and  now  she  could  also  anticipate  her  next  visit 
with  the  Wise  Woman,  who,  intuition  told  her, 
would  be  quick  to  see  the  characteristics  which 
had  interested  her  so  deeply  in  Marguerite.  She 
should  enjoy  talking  of  the  milliner  with  her  old 
friend. 


148  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

So  her  cogitations  ran  on,  until  her  car  stopped 
at  the  corner  nearest  to  Miss  Laird's  flat.  She 
walked  along  the  sidewalk,  looking  up  as  she 
advanced  toward  the  familiar  show-window  unseen 
for  so  many  weeks.  It  appeared  strange.  She 
looked  again.  Then  she  stood  still  and  rapidly 
glanced  at  the  neighboring  buildings,  to  make  sure 
that  she  had  not  left  the  car  at  the  wrong  corner. 
No,  that  was  certainly  the  right  building.  There 
was  the  small  sign,  which  read  J.  F.  McKnight, 
M.  D.,  but  where  was  the  gilded  name  which  had 
grown  to  have  a  special  significance  for  her? 
Marguerite.  The  word  conjured  up  a  girl,  tall, 
straight,  and  graceful,  in  clinging  gray  gown, 
whose  warm  reddish  hair  was  gathered  high  under 
its  quaint  shell  comb,  and  the  humorous  light  in 
whose  eyes  belied  her  grave  lips.  The  window 
was  bare  of  decoration.  Had  she  gone?  Had 
Madeline's  bete  noire  vanished? 

Katherine's  heart  beat  a  little  faster  as  she 
made  her  slow  and  careful  journey  up  the  flight 
of  stairs.  She  had  time  to  consider  the  probabili- 
ties, and  the  most  likely  seemed  that  Miss  Laird 
and  her  brother  had  removed  to  Newark  in  order 
to  live  nearer  the  Works.  Mrs.  Ormond  would 
have  been  disheartened  to  know  that  the  gleam  of 
comfort  her  daughter  extracted  from  this  theory 
was  that  at  the  distance  of  Newark  she  might  dare 
to  be  on  more  friendly  terms  with  this  contraband 
acquaintance  than  she  ever  could  at  the  near  range 
of  Main  Street,  Montaigne. 


THE    AID   SOCIETY.  149 

Before  she  had  reached  the  upper  stair  Kath- 
arine had  received  an  offer  of  marriage  from 
some  vague  adorer  upon  whom  she  looked  gra- 
ciously, making  the  one  proviso  that  he  lay  no 
straw  in  the  way  of  her  intimacy  with  Marguerite 
Laird. 

Arrived  at  the  glass  door,  she  was  not  surprised 
to  find  no  name  thereon;  but  she  was  amazed 
when  the  hinges  turned  in  answer  to  her  knock, 
and  Lucia  appeared. 

"Why,  Lucia,  is  that  you?  Where  has  Miss 
Laird  gone?  " 

"Nowhere,  Miss."  The  Italian  smiled.  "Would 
you  like  to  see  her?  " 

Katherine  walked  into  the  familiar  room.  No 
detail  was  lacking,  but  the  shades  at  the  windows 
were  half  drawn,  so  she  had  not  been  able  from 
without  to  see  the  bonnets  hanging  on  their 
branches. 

After  a  short  time  the  milliner  came  in,  the 
same  gracious,  living  picture  as  of  old. 

"Why,  Miss  Laird!  "  Katherine  rose  and  of- 
fered her  hand.  Mrs.  Ormond  would  have  ob- 
jected to  her  manner  of  doing  so.  "You  startled 
me.  I  thought  you  had  gone,  when  I  couldn't 
find  your  name  anywhere.  What  has  happened  ? 
Are  you  going  to  have  a  new  sign? " 

"I  haven't  decided,"  replied  Marguerite,  as 
she  took  the  cordial  hand.  She  might  have  added 
that  she  herself  wondered  quite  as  much  as  Kath- 
erine. 


150  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"I  am  sure  there  would  be  a  general  groan  if 
you  went  away.  I  came  to  see  if  you  had  any 
time  for  me  this  morning.  If  not,  you  can  ap- 
point another  day,  and  I  will  come  again." 

"I  have  plenty  of  time,"  replied  Marguerite. 
"We  are  not  driven  now.  Come  right  into  the 
little  room.  Did  you  make  the  hat  you  have 
on?"  She  examined  it  with  critical  eyes.  "It 
is  good.  I  cannot  teach  you  much  more." 

"I  haven't  your  touch.  I  never  shall  have. 
No  one  has." 

"Oh,  you  flatterer!  "  Marguerite  smiled  at  the 
ardent  tone.  "I  am  going  to  give  up  trying  to 
teach  it,  any  way." 

"  Really  ?  You  are  not  going  to  give  any  more 
lessons?  Why  is  that?" 

Marguerite  might  have  truthfully  responded 
again  that  she  did  not  know.  Miss  McKnight 
had  put  her  head  in  the  day  before,  and,  with  a 
smile  and  sibyl-like  mystery  and  brevity,  given 
that  order,  and  her  protegee,  who  did  nothing  by 
halves,  proposed  to  obey  her. 

"Well,  I  have  given  it  up,"  returned  Miss 
Laird  vaguely.  "Perhaps  I  am  growing  rich  and 
lazy,"  she  added,  with  the  smile  and  flash  of  the 
eyes  Katherine  loved  to  see. 

"  I  'm  glad  I  found  you  in  your  mercenary  and 
energetic  stage  then,"  said  Katherine,  seating 
herself  and  preparing  to  work. 

The  milliner  proceeded  to  initiate  her  into  fur- 
ther silken  mysteries,  which  the  pupil  followed 


THE   AW   SOCIETY.  151 

witli  interest;  but  when  she  had  the  work  safely 
in  her  own  hand,  she  changed  the  subject. 

"  I  was  so  glad  to  find  last  Sunday  that  my  dear 
Wise  Woman  is  a  friend  of  yours." 

"It  is  a  pleasant  surprise  to  me  also,  I  assure 
you." 

"  She  is  better  than  the  Lady  from  Philadelphia 
for  Peterkins  like  me.  She  is  my  oracle,  as  I 
told  you." 

"  She  seems  to  me  like  a  monument  of  strength," 
said  Marguerite. 

"That  is  what  she  is;  yet  charmingly  uncon- 
scious and  unaffected,  like  all  big,  noble  people. 
I  am  so  glad  you  know  her." 

"It  was  a  delightful  happening,"  returned  Mar- 
guerite. "Her  brother  is  my  brother's  employer, 
and  he  interested  Miss  McKnight  in  Fritz,  so  she 
asked  him  to  the  house  and  kindly  included  me." 

"Exactly  what  mother  said,"  thought  Katherine 
swiftly.  "I  hope  you  will  see  more  of  her,"  she 
said  aloud.  "The  Wise  Woman  is  such  a  good 
friend  to  have."  She  looked  up  at  Marguerite, 
who  was  working  busily,  and  something  in  her 
face  and  attitude  —  nothing  new,  but  the  dignity 
and  healthy  poise  that  were  always  expressed 
there,  prompted  her  to  continue :  "  That  is,  if  you 
are  like  most  people,  and  enjoy  making  new 
friends." 

Miss  Laird  smiled  without  looking  up.  "Of 
course  I  appreciate  the  honor  of  making  a  friend 
like  Miss  McKnight,"  she  said,  "but  to  tell  the 


152  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

truth  I  suppose  my  busy  life  does  make  me  more 
indifferent  than  many  to  outside  friendships. 
That,  and  the  fact  that  I  have  Fritz." 

"He  fills  your  heart,  then." 

"Most  satisfactorily,"  answered  Marguerite, 
meeting  her  pupil's  questioning  brown  eyes.  She 
was  too  shrewd  not  to  perceive  that  Katherine 
liked  and  admired  her  personally.  Under  differ- 
ent circumstances  she  would  have  been  glad  to 
meet  her  half  way;  but  Katherine  was  Madeline's 
sister,  and  in  spite  of  the  childlike  directness  and 
simplicity  which  Marguerite  found  so  winning  in 
her  pupil,  she  felt  that  she  must  strive  firmly  to 
hold  to  a  formal  relation  with  the  girl,  and  Kath- 
erine went  home,  after  lingering  as  long  as  she 
dared,  her  head  full  of  an  almost  lover-like  appre- 
ciation of  the  daintiness,  brightness,  and  unap- 
proachableness  of  the  milliner,  and  her  heart  of 
dejection  at  a  prospect  which  held  out  no  vestige 
of  an  excuse  to  continue  visiting  her. 

That  afternoon  was  the  occasion  of  the  weekly 
meeting  of  the  charitable  Aid  Society  in  the  par- 
lors of  the  Ormonds'  church.  This  was  a  flour- 
ishing institution,  energetically  managed  and  well 
attended,  and  the  babel  of  tongues  often  rivaled 
that  of  an  afternoon  reception. 

Katherine  was  warmly  welcomed  back  to  the 
work  that  had  missed  her  so  many  weeks,  and  she 
joined  the  coterie  which  had  formed  about  Miss 
McKnight.  The  latter  had  been  secretly  amused 
this  season  to  find  herself  an  object  of  affectionate 


THE   AID    SOCIETY.  153 

interest  in  many  quarters  where  hitherto  she  had 
only  met  respectful  courtesy.  The  knot  of  work- 
ers which  Katherine  joined  contained  much  of  the 
cream  of  Montaigne  society,  and  all  listened  with 
deference  to  Miss  McKnight's  remarks. 

"Come  right  here,  my  dear,"  she  said,  as  Kath- 
erine approached.  "Here  are  some  flannel  seams 
ready  for  you  to  open." 

"Now  you  are  not  going  to  sit  next  to  Miss 
McKnight,"  said  Betty  Arnold,  pouting  saucily. 
"That  is  my  place.  Madeline  has  one  side  of 
her,  and  that  must  suffice  for  the  Ormond  family." 

"Oh,  that  is  all  right,"  returned  Katherine. 
"My  place  is  permanent,  right  in  her  heart." 
She  smiled,  slipped  into  an  empty  chair,  and 
threw  her  Wise  Woman  a  kiss  amid  the  protest- 
ing jeers  of  the  little  crowd. 

"You  haven't  apologized  for  your  tardiness, 
Katherine,"  said  Miss  McKnight,  to  whom  Mrs. 
Ormond  had  complained  impatiently  of  her  daugh- 
ter's errand. 

"No,  I  've  done  better  than  that.  There  is 
only  one  apology  that  is  admissible  here,  and  that 
is  the  fine.  I  have  paid  it." 

"  That  is  all  very  well  officially ;  but  privately 
you  must  give  an  account  of  yourself.  How  have 
you  spent  these  shining  hours?" 

"Improved  them  just  like  the  little  busy  bee," 
returned  Katherine  demurely,  with  a  glance  at 
Madeline. 

"Let   us   judge   of   that,"    pursued  Miss  Me- 


154  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

Knight.  "I'm  the  judge,  and  this  is  the  jury. 
We  will  decide  whether  you  may  be  forgiven  after 
you  tell  us  where  and  how  you  have  been  em- 
ployed." 

Katherine  felt  some  surprise  at  this  persistence 
from  the  most  delicate  woman  of  her  acquaintance. 
She  met  the  kind  dark  eyes  that  were  fixed  upon 
her  with  an  expression  more  earnest  than  jocose. 
It  was  the  Wise  Woman.  She  had  some  reason. 

"Well,"  returned  the  girl  after  a  pause,  "since 
you  will  have  me  boast,  I  was  learning  the  last 
bits  of  wisdom  any  one  can  know  on  the  subject 
of  hat-making.  I,  my  friends,  am  a  graduated 
milliner."  Katherine  lifted  her  chin  with  a  lofty 
air;  but  she  did  not  glance  at  Madeline.  She 
knew  her  sister  would  be  incensed  with  her  for 
remaining  so  long  with  Marguerite. 

"Oh,  that  is  it,"  returned  Miss  McKnight. 
"Then  I  need  not  send  out  the  jury,  I  am  sure; 
for  all  must  agree  that  you  were  wise  to  make  hay 
while  the  sun  shone.  It  isn't  to  shine  for  any 
more  lucky  girls,  I  understand." 

"How  is  that?  "  asked  Madeline  Ormond. 

"Miss  Laird  refuses  to  teach  any  more." 

"Indeed?  "  returned  Betty  Arnold.  "Then  we 
that  took  the  lessons  when  we  could  were  fortu- 
nate. I  don't  know  that  I  shall  ever  trim  a  hat 
again,  but  I  like  to  feel  that  I  know  how.  It  is 
Marguerite,  Miss  McKnight  is  talking  about, 
girls." 

"I  didn't  know  her  name  was  Laird,"  said  a 


THE    AID    SOCIETY.  155 

young  lady  with  a  low  voice  and  a  drawl.  "I 
always  supposed  she  was  French.  She  is  very 
good." 

Madeline  cast  a  quick  glance  at  her  sister. 
She  wondered  if  Katherine  could  sustain  with 
equanimity  the  thought  of  an  individual  having 
the  entree  to  their  house  who  could  be  character- 
ized as  "very  good"  by  august  lips  having  an 
English  accent. 

But  Miss  McKnight's  lips  were  equally  august 
although  unaffected,  and  they  were  speaking  again. 
"Oh,  no,  she  is  not  French.  Her  mother  was  a 
Hodgson.  One  of  the  Long  Island  Hodgsons, 
you  know."  The  speaker  cast  a  calm,  deliberate 
glance  around  the  circle,  as  though  certain  of  being 
understood.  "Hodgson's"  Point  was  named  for 
the  Thomas  Hodgson  who  came  over  early  in  the 
seventeenth  century.  He  was  knighted  by  the 
king  for  distinguished  service  upon  his  return  to 
England." 

Madeline  gave  Miss  McKnight  a  glance  in 
which  bitterness  mingled  with  surprise.  "Kath- 
erine has  been  talking  to  you,"  she  said,  all  her 
suspicions  aroused. 

She  received  a  clear,  honest  gaze  which  confused 
her,  and  made  her  wish  she  had  not  spoken  so 
impulsively. 

"No,  she  has  not,  my  dear.  Why?  Did  you 
know  it?" 

Madeline's  inarticulate  response  was  lost  in 
Betty  Arnold's  voice:  — 


156  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"I  wonder  why  Marguerite  won't  give  any 
more  lessons?  " 

"Can  you  wonder  at  it?"  returned  Miss  Mc- 
Knight.  "Especially  gifted  persons  always  suffer 
in  teaching.  The  more  delicate  the  artistic  per- 
ceptions, the  more  a  teacher  is  worn  upon  by  con- 
tact with  lack  of  talent." 

"I  call  that  a  cruel  joke,"  said  Betty,  pretend- 
ing to  be  seriously  offended. 

Miss  McKnight  laughed.  "Of  course  present 
company  is  always  excepted;  but  while  you,  my 
dear  girls,  are  all  bright  enough,  your  talents  may 
not  be  cultivated  in  the  direction  of  perception  of 
color  and  form,  and  an  artist  might  easily  be 
expected  to  tire  of  a  branch  of  work  which  is 
really  drudgery.  We  should  not  criticise  Pade- 
rewski  for  objecting  to  teach  the  rudiments  of 
piano  playing." 

Katherine's  white  cheeks  were  beginning  to 
glow,  but  she  was  the  most  industrious  sewer  in 
the  circle. 

The  English  -  speaking  young  lady  laughed. 
"Marguerite's  abilities  seem  to  have  made  an 
exalted  impression  upon  Miss  McKnight." 

"Oh,  Miss  Allington,  when  you  are  as  old  as  I 
am,  you  will  not  hesitate  to  name  an  artist  when 
you  see  one,  in  whatever  branch  the  divine  spark 
exhibits  itself.  Of  course  I  know  Miss  Laird's 
uncommon  gifts  are  evident  to  you.  You  have 
recognized  that  there  should  be  some  new  name 
coined  for  her  art.  I  ask  you,  does  '  milliner ' 


THE   AID    SOCIETY.  157 

convey  an  adequate  idea  of  that  sense  of  harmony 
to  which  she  manages  so  cleverly  to  make  stiff 
fashion  bow?" 

Miss  Allington  looked  knowing.  She  was  not 
proof  against  deference  from  such  a  quarter. 
"Marguerite  is  artistic.  There  is  no  doubt  of 
that.  I  did  not  know  she  was  your  protegee,  Miss 
McKnight." 

The  latter  lifted  her  hands  with  a  little  depre- 
catory laugh.  "Nor  is  she.  I  think  Miss  Laird 
would  smile  at  the  idea  of  being  any  one's  pro- 
tegee. I  am  old  and  slow,  and  while  you  girls 
have  been  being  made  lovely  by  her  magic  touch, 
I  have  rather  stupidly  kept  on  in  the  accustomed 
ruts,  until  lately  I  have  waked  up.  It  is  my  usual 
way  to  be  the  last  to  adopt  a  fashion,  and  really 
this  clever  girl  has  made  the  old  lady  so  fine  that 
it  rather  startles  me  to  think  I  might  have  waked 
up  too  late." 

"How  might  it  have  been  too  late?"  asked 
Madeline,  to  whom  all  this  talk  was  a  painful 
surprise  since,  as  yet,  she  only  saw  in  it  encour- 
agement to  Katherine's  ill-advised  impulse  of 
friendliness.  She  hoped  she  was  going  to  hear 
that  the  bone  of  contention  was  on  the  eve  of 
leaving  town. 

"  Why,  because  no  one  can  tell  at  what  moment 
Miss  Laird's  caprice  may  lead  her  to  give  up  her 
business." 

"No  danger  of  that,  I  fancy,"  said  Betty  Ar- 
nold. "I  noticed  yesterday  that  the  name  is  gone 


158  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

from    her  window.     I    suppose    she    is   going   to 
embellish  it  with  some  still  more  attractive  sign  — 
the  coat  of  arms  of  Sir  Thomas  Hodgson,  per- 
haps," added  the  girl  mischievously. 

"I  don't  feel  so  safe  as  you  do,"  remarked  Miss 
McKnight  gravely,  "and  I  propose  to  keep  on 
the  right  side  of  that  young  lady.  I  suppose  she 
is  no  freer  from  caprices  and  notions  than  the 
others  of  her  sex,  and  as  she  can  afford  to  humor 
her  caprices,  no  doubt  she  will." 

"I  knew  she  was  successful,"  said  Betty,  with 
curiosity  and  interest,  "but  I  had  no  idea  she  had 
made  such  a  good  thing  of  it  as  that." 

"My  dear,"  Miss  McKnight  took  a  more  im- 
pressive tone,  "Miss  Laird  was  never  obliged  to 
earn  money.  Did  you  think  she  was,  all  of  you 
who  have  known  her  so  much  longer  than  I? " 
Well  the  speaker  knew  that  in  some  minds  she 
was  addressing  the  necessity  to  earn  was  its  one 
inexcusable  feature.  A  dozen  eyes  were  lifted  to 
her.  Among  them  were  Katherine's,  filled  with 
surprise.  She  did  not  know  that  the  alternative 
was  the  bread  and  water  Marguerite  had  referred 
to  in  her  talk  with  the  Wise  Woman.  Neverthe- 
less, bread  and  water  will  preserve  life. 

"The  artistic  sense  in  that  girl,"  pursued  Miss 
McKnight  earnestly,  "pressed  for  outlet.  She 
was  brimful  of  life  and  vigor.  One  can  paint  pic- 
tures and  fill  one's  own  and  one's  friends'  walls, 
if  they  will  not  sell;  but  a  collection  of  bonnets 
minus  heads  is  unprofitable  from  any  point  of 


THE   AID    SOCIETY. 

view.  Very  well,  Miss  Laird  wanted  to  make 
bonnets.  How  has  she  done  it?  " 

"Extremely  well,"  responded  one  of  the  sewers. 
"  It  would  be  a  misfortune  if  she  should  get  tired 
of  it." 

"I  don't  intend  to  let  her  drop  me,"  said  Miss 
MeKnight,  returning  to  her  work.  "I  dare  say 
she  may  be  tired  of  her  fad  by  this  time,  but  I 
intend  to  coax  her  to  continue  to  beautify  my  de- 
clining years.  She  and  her  half-brother,  Mr. 
Sheldon,  took  tea  with  me  on  Sunday  evening." 

Miss  MeKnight 's  remarks  had  been  cumulative 
in  their  effect,  and  now  not  a  hand  save  Katherine 
Ormond's  continued  busy.  Even  Madeline  had 
ceased  to  criticise,  and  only  listened. 

"Mr.  Sheldon  bids  fair  to  be  my  brother's 
right-hand  man  in  the  Works,"  went  on  Miss 
MeKnight,  plying  her  needle  steadily.  "A  very 
brainy  young  fellow  he  is,  graduated  high  at 
Stevens.  He  has  worked  with  so  much  push  and 
energy  since  they  came  here,  that  he  has  had  time 
to  make  hardly  any  acquaintances,  but  my  nephew 
has  proposed  him  at  the  Athletic  Club,  and  when' 
he  is  a  member  it  will  make  it  pleasanter  for 
them.  He  has  just  such  an  unostentatious,  well- 
bred  air  as  his  sister.  Of  course  you  have  all 
noticed  her  quiet,  distinguished  manner,  and  that 
little  twinkle  that  sometimes  flashes  in  her  eyes, 
showing  how  much  amusement  she  has  derived 
from  playing  store,  as  the  children  say.  All  the 
seams  done,  Katherine?"  as  the  girl  handed  in 


160  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

her  work.  "  Well,  you  are  a  busy  bee !  Here  is 
another  little  gown  just  like  it." 

Before  the  day  was  over,  Katherine  found  a 
minute  alone  with  her  old  friend. 

"That  was  fine,  dear,  dear  Wise  Woman! 
What  you  are  doing  it  for,  I  can't  imagine ;  but 
my  heart  is  just  leaping  for  joy." 

Miss  McKnight  patted  the  excited  girl.  "I 
have  my  reasons;  but  don't  praise  me.  I  haven't 
had  such  an  amusing  plaything  in  a  long  time. 
Mum,  remember,  Katherine!" 

"Don't  fear.  I  don't  dare  to  be  anything  else, 
and  I  don't  want  to  be  now.  All  I  care  to  do  is 
to  watch  and  listen." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

TRANSITION. 

Miss  MCKNIGHT'S  remarks  all  fell  on  inter- 
ested ears,  and  her  hints  as  to  making  certain  of 
Marguerite's  continued  services  were  not  lost. 

Betty  Arnold  was  among  the  first  to  ascend  to 
the  milliner's  abode  under  the  influence  of  the 
novel  impressions  Miss  McKuight  had  taken  pains 
to  produce. 

No  sign  was  on  the  door;  even  the  legend 
which  invited  the  customer  to  walk  in  had  van- 
ished. Miss  Arnold  rang,  and  shortly  Lucia 
appeared. 

"Is"  —  she  found  the  name  Marguerite  would 
not  come —  "is  Miss  Laird  at  home?" 

"She  is.     Walk  in,  please." 

Miss  Arnold  entered  the  room,  a  show-room  no 
longer,  and  looked  about  her  discontentedly.  She 
was  in  a  parlor  which  betokened  no  occupation  in 
particular.  It  contained  the  same  wicker  furni- 
ture she  had  been  used  to  see,  but  new  and  dainty 
white  hangings  were  at  the  windows,  and  an  up- 
right piano  stood  in  one  corner.  The  girl's  eyes 
looked  down  disapprovingly  upon  the  small-pat- 
terned brussels  carpet  in  olive  tints.  She  could 


162  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

not  tell  whether  it  had  always  been  there  or  not. 
She  was  still  resenting  the  fact  of  the  piano  lamp 
and  other  ornaments  which  decorated  the  pretty 
room  when  the  descendant  of  Sir  Thomas  Hodg- 
son came  in. 

"Dear  me,"  said  Betty,  by  way  of  greeting. 
"I  don't  like  this  at  all!  "  Her  quick  eyes  took 
in  the  simple,  becoming  house  dress  which  had 
replaced  the  gray  gown.  She  had  never  shaken 
hands  with  her  milliner.  Why  should  she  now? 
Why  shoidd  n't  she  ?  Perhaps  it  would  be  neces- 
sary, to  secure  her  object.  She  rose  suddenly, 
and  rather  nervously  held  out  her  little  hand. 

Marguerite  took  it  in  gracious,  composed  fash- 
ion. 

"You  don't  like  this  absence  of  properties," 
she  said,  sinking  into  a  seat  near  her  guest. 

Miss  McKnight  had  at  last  confided  to  her  her 
plan  of  action,  and  Marguerite  had  obediently 
and  gratefully  accepted  her  own  part  in  the  little 
comedy.  "Well,"  she  continued,  "you  know  this 
is  not  the  season  when  people's  fancies  lightly 
turn  to  thoughts  of  new  hats." 

"Oh,  is  that  all?"  returned  Betty,  relieved. 
"Is  it  only  because  this  is  the  dull  time?" 

"Partly  that,"  said  Marguerite,  with  easy  non- 
chalance, "and4  then,  really,  this  flat  is  such  a 
little  box,  you  know,  one  can't  have  room  for 
everything,  and  I  was  homesick  for  my  piano." 

Miss  Arnold's  eyes  widened  anxiously.  "Then 
don't  you  mean  to  keep  up  your  business?  " 


TRANSITION.  163 

Miss  Laird  smiled.  "Surely  it  is  a  matter  of 
indifference  to  you,  Miss  Arnold,  now." 

"Oh,  you  are  just  making  fun  of  me.  I  can 
make  hack  hats  well  enough,  but  I  want  your 
ideas  for  all  my  nice  things.  Now  do  promise, 
Marguerite  —  Miss  Laird,  you  won't  give  me  up, 
any  way." 

Marguerite  raised  her  eyebrows  and  laughed. 
"You  are  very  complimentary.  I  had  just  about 
decided  of  late  that  I  was  too  autocratic  by  nature 
to  try  to  carry  on  a  serious  business.  It  worries 
me  when  people  venture  to  have  ideas  of  their 
own,  if  they  happen  to  go  contrary  to  mine.  If 
I  could  establish  a  millinery  monarchy,  and  make 
women  wear  the  colors  and  shapes  I  dictate  on 
their  heads  as  the  only  means  of  retaining  those 
heads  on  their  shoulders,  I  presume  I  should  enjoy 
myself;  but  as  it  is,  I  have  been  subject  to  a  great 
many  annoyances.  Last  week  the  climax  was 
reached.  A  woman  came  in  here  with  the  most 
florid  face  imaginable.  She  was  determined  that 
I  should  make  her  a  purple  bonnet."  Marguerite 
gave  her  shoulders  a  light  shrug.  "That  decided 
me,"  she  added,  after  an  eloquent  pause.  "I 
determined  to  send  for  my  piano." 

"Really,  Miss  Laird,  I  promise  to  be  a  most 
obedient  subject,  with  no  ideas  at  all  of  my  own 
about  my  complexion,"  said  Miss  Arnold  anx- 
iously. 

"Oh,  a  young  girl  like  you  looks  well  in  so 
many  things,"  returned  Marguerite  carelessly. 


164  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Never  mind.  I  look  best  in  yours,"  answered 
Miss  Arnold,  rendered  more  determined  by  Miss 
Laird's  indifference. 

Public  favor  is  so  capricious,  there  is  no  assur- 
ance but  that  Marguerite's  star  might  have  waned 
or  been  eclipsed  before  long,  had  she  gone  on  in 
the  same  path;  but  this  change  of  plan,  which 
she  owed  to  Miss  McKnight,  only  sharpened  the 
interest  felt  in  her.  Betty  Arnold  was  not  slow 
in  spreading  the  disconcerting  news  of  her  retire- 
ment from  business,  and  many  were  the  protest- 
ing and  anxious  visits  which  the  handsome  mil- 
liner received  in  her  dainty  bower,  where  calls 
took  on  a  semi-social  character  before  the  self- 
seeking  guests  realized  it. 

The  Ormonds  were  not  among  these.  Made- 
line had  gone  home  from  the  sewing  society,  and, 
closeted  with  her  mother,  had  given  her  a  succinct 
account  of  Miss  McKnight 's  astonishing  talk,  to 
which  Mrs.  Ormoiid  listened  with  amazed  attention. 

"I  suppose  Katherine  was  delighted,"  was  the 
first  remark  she  made  when  the  narrative  was 
finished. 

"Of  course  she  was,"  returned  Madeline,  "but 
we  have  not  exchanged  a  word  on  the  subject." 

Just  then  a  knock  was  heard  on  the  door  of  the 
room  where  they  sat,  followed  by  Katherine 's  face, 
which  she  intruded  through  a  narrow  opening. 

"Is  this  a  private  conclave?" 

"No,"  answered  Mrs.  Ormond.  "We  want 
you.  Madeline  has  just  been  telling  me  the  re- 


TRANSITION.  165 

markable  things  Edna  McKnight  told  your  com- 
pany about  that  very  annoying  girl.  It  seems 
there  is  never  to  be  an  end  to  the  subject.  We 
need  you  to  throw  light  upon  this.  What  is  your 
Wise  Woman  after?  " 

"I  don't  know,  I'm  sure,"  answered  the  girl, 
as  she  came  in  and  seated  herself. 

"Now,  Katherine,  don't  dodge,  or  prevaricate, 
or  make  fun,  or  anything,"  said  Madeline,  who 
looked  heated. 

"Thank  you  for  this  subtle  flattery,"  returned 
the  other,  too  content  to  refrain  from  a  laugh. 
"Gaze  into  my  eyes.  Aren't  they  as  clear  as  a 
limping  stream?  The  Wise  Woman  hasn't  hon- 
ored me  with  her  confidence ;  but  what  should  she 
be  after?  She  stated  a  lot  of  facts  that  seemed 
to  interest  her,  and  certainly  interested  us.  You 
would  better  be  blessing  your  lucky  stars  that  I 
can  make  you  a  hat  if  Marguerite  won't,  instead 
of  looking  grumpy." 

"My  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Orinond,  "the  circum- 
stance that  has  put  us  in  an  awkward  position  has 
been  that  those  young  people  might  claim  some 
right  to  our  notice  through  the  Hodgsoiis.  We 
were  obliged  to  be  careful.  Miss  McKnight's 
statements  are  indeed  interesting,  and  very  sur- 
prising. I  don't  quite  know  just  what  to  do  in 
the  matter." 

"Wait  and  see  what  other  people  do,"  sug- 
gested Katherine. 

"That  is  just  what  I  was  thinking,"  said  Mrs. 


166  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

Ormond  reflectively,  not  perceiving  the  veiled 
sarcasm.  "So  don't  alter  your  behavior,  Katli- 
erine,  at  present.  You  have  taken  your  last  les- 
son. Keep  away  from  Miss  Laird  now  altogether. 
I  have  no  prejudice  against  either  brother  or  sis- 
ter; but  because  of  old  acquaintance  with  their 
humble  connections,  we  cannot  act  in  the  same 
freedom  as  some  others." 

"Do  you  call  Sir  Thomas  Hodgson  a  humble 
connection?"  asked  Katherine,  with  twinkling- 
eyes. 

"We  didn't  know  him,"  observed  Mrs.  Or- 
mond briefly.  Katherine  suddenly  arose  and  threw 
her  arms  around  her  mother's  neck. 

"You  are  nice  now,  dear  mamma,"  she  ex- 
claimed, punctuating  her  words  with  kisses,  "but 
how  gilt-edged  you  would  be  if  you  would  snap 
your  chains  and  call  your  soul  your  own !  " 

"And  lose  half  the  pleasure  in  life  by  being 
odd,"  said  Madeline.  "I  don't  see  how  you  came 
to  be  such  an  odd  sheep  in  the  family.  I  feel 
years  older  than  you,  of  late,  Katherine,  and  am 
forever  afraid  you  are  going  to  do  something  im- 
prudent." 

Katherine  only  laughed  again.  Her  mother 
was  leaning  against  her  affectionately,  with  the 
feeling  that  this  uncalculating  child's  good  points 
were  an  undeniable  comfort,  if  she  did  cause  her 
trouble. 

Katherine  was  awaiting  her  opportunity  to  in- 
form her  brother  of  the  events  of  the  day. 


TRANSITION.  167 

He  received  her  news  with  all  the  appreciation 
she  could  ask,  and  together  they  discussed  what 
could  be  the  Wise  Woman's  object  in  taking  so 
much  pains. 

"We  may  as  well  put  it  down  as  another  case 
of  hypnotism,"  said  Gilbert  at  last. 

"We  are  very  likely  overreaching  ourselves," 
returned  Katherine.  "It  is  probably  pure  be- 
nevolence on  the  Wise  Woman's  part.  She  wants 
justice  done  to  a  well-informed,  charming  girl, 
who  is  at  present  just  betwixt  and  between,  and 
has  no  social  life  at  all." 

"To-night  will  settle  Sheldon's  admission  or 
non-admission  to  the  club,"  said  Gilbert. 

After  that  bit  of  information  Katherine 's  bright 
eyes  refused  to  close  until  the  late  hour  when  she 
heard  her  brother's  latchkey  turn  in  the  house  door. 

She  listened  till  his  step  sounded  on  the  stairs, 
when  she  left  her  bed  and  opened  her  door  a 
crack. 

"  Gilbert  ?  "  she  whispered. 

"What?" 

"How  did  the  vote  go?" 

"He 'selected." 

A  shadowy  white  sleeve  was  thrust  through  the 
opening,  and  Gilbert  took  the  smooth  hand  over 
which  the  lace  was  falling.  They  exchanged  a 
hearty  handshake,  and  a  guilty,  suppressed  laugh. 
Then  Katherine 's  door  closed  noiselessly. 

He  stated  his  news  at  the  family  breakfast-table 
next  morning,  where  it  was  received  with  interest. 


168  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Dear  me,"  Mrs.  Orrnond  laughed,  "this  is 
quite  astonishing.  I  'm  through  prophesying  about 
those  young  people,  and  only  ask  what  next?" 

"  We  shall  see  what  next  at  the  ball  Thursday 
night,"  said  Madeline.  "Miss  McKnight  is  one 
of  the  patronesses,  and  perhaps  by  her  encourage- 
ment Mr.  Sheldon  will  bring  his  sister.  I  don't 
suppose  they  can  dance  a  step,  either  of  them. 
Just  fancy  how  queer  it  will  seem  to  see  Margue- 
rite sitting  around  in  corners  with  idle  hands.  I 
pity  her,  I  really  do,"  added  Madeline  magnani- 
mously, "and  I  wish  she  would  have  sense  enough 
to  go  back  into  the  country  where  she  came  from." 
Here  the  young  lady's  thoughts  ran  on,  but  inau- 
dibly.  Miss  McKnight's  praise  of  Sheldon  had 
pleasantly  excited  her,  added  to  Gilbert's  descrip- 
tion of  his  physical  prowess.  She  anticipated 
meeting  him.  It  would  be  enjoyable  to  renew  her 
power  over  an  admired  man,  yet  the  question  of 
keeping  him  in  his  place  came  in  there.  She  was 
not  sure  even  yet  that  she  wanted  him  to  come  to 
the  house.  The  situation  was  one  that  demanded 
clever  treatment,  and  Madeline  believed  in  her 
own  cleverness  and  enjoyed  exercising  it. 

Meanwhile  the  object  of  her  thoughts  was  being 
mildly  surprised  by  the  unexpected  events  occur- 
ring daily  in  his  cozy  home.  Entirely  unsuspi- 
cious that  any  ulterior  end  was  being  served  by 
the  metamorphosis  in  his  surroundings  and  his 
sister's  daily  habits,  he  enjoyed  the  change.  It 
was  luxury  to  lie  on  the  lounge  in  the  evening, 


TRANSITION.  169 

and  hear  Marguerite  drum  away  tunefully  upon 
the  piano.  She  had  a  faculty  for  remembering 
melodies,  and  it  had  been  her  gift  from  childhood 
to  "play  by  ear"  in  a  manner  which  was  the 
marvel  of  the  neighborhood.  Fritz  liked  the  little 
marches  and  dances  which  tinkled  along  rhythmi- 
cally under  his  sister's  fingers,  and  he  used  to  lie 
there  and  listen,  and  look  about  him  while  the 
changed  room  was  a  novelty,  and  feel  as  serene  a 
content  as  he  might  ever  hope  to  know  in  a  life- 
time. 

One  evening,  as  they  were  situated  thus,  there 
came  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  immediately  Miss 
McKnight  walked  in. 

"How  much  comfort  I  have  disturbed!"  she 
exclaimed,  as  Fritz  sprang  from  the  couch  and  his 
sister  from  the  piano  stool.  "My  nephew  has 
dropped  me  here  while  he  goes  to  make  a  call  in 
the  neighborhood,"  she  added,  as  she  was  wel- 
comed. "I  thought  it  would  be  much  pleasanter 
to  talk  to  you  than  to  sit  alone  in  the  carriage 
waiting  for  him.  What  a  pretty  waltz  you  were 
playing,  Marguerite.  This  sister  of  yours  is  a 
clever  girl,  Mr.  Sheldon;  do  you  know  it?  " 

Fritz  smiled.  "I've  begun  lately  to  believe 
she  must  be.  Has  n't  she  fixed  this  place  up 
nicely?  Why,  I  feel  like  a  Vanderbilt  when  I 
come  home  at  evening.  Marguerite  has  been  such 
a  steam  engine  I  like  to  think  she  is  resting  at  last." 

Miss  McKnight  exchanged  an  amused  glance 
with  the  smiling  girl. 


170  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"  She  will  not  be  allowed  to  rest  too  long-,  Mr. 
Sheldon.  We  can't  spare  her." 

"Don't  encourage  a  return  to  the  shop,  please. 
These  few  days  have  turned  me  into  such  a  Syba- 
rite that  I  could  n't  stand  it.  There  is  n't  any 
need  of  it,  either." 

"Marguerite  must  compromise,  then,"  returned 
Miss  McKnight,  breaking  into  a  laugh  as  she 
spoke,  for  Fritz's  unconscious  earnestness  lent 
still  more  humor  to  the  situation.  "She  can  do 
a  little  work  sub  rosci,  perhaps.  You  know  it  is 
a  pity  for  steam  engines  to  grow  rusty.  Let  me 
congratulate  you  upon  your  entrance  to  the  Ath- 
letic Club." 

"Thank  you.  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  Dr. 
McKnight.  I  anticipate  much  benefit  from  my 
membership.  An  hour  in  the  gymnasium  is  just 
what  I  need  occasionally,  to  keep  in  shape." 

"I  suppose  you  are  coming  to  the  ball  next 
Thursday." 

Fritz  looked  at  his  sister.  "  I  received  my  invi- 
tation, but  it  will  be  just  as  Marguerite  says.  I 
don't  care  much  about  it  myself,  and  I  certainly 
shall  not  go  without  her." 

"I  should  think  you  would  go,  both  of  you. 
Of  course  such  a  gathering  is  less  interesting  if 
one  does  not  dance,  but  I  have  good  grounds  for 
believing  you  can  both  dance." 

Fritz  smiled  at  his  sister,  then  back  at  the 
guest.  "  What  is  your  reason  ?" 

"Because   you   come  from  near  Detroit.     An 


TRANSITION.  171 

army  officer  once  confided  to  me  that  Detroit  girls 
were  the  best  dancers  in  the  country.  Of  course 
you  know  the  wearers  of  shoulder-straps  are  au- 
thority on  dancing1.  I  had  a  boy  cousin  once 
whose  mother  thought  of  West  Point  for  him,  and 
asked  him  how  he  supposed  he  should  like  army 
life.  He  answered  reproachfully :  '  Why,  mother, 
you  know  I  could  never  learn  to  waltz ! '  So  you 
see  why  I  am  certain  that  being  brought  up  near 
a  centre  of  terpsichorean  art,  and  playing  such 
crisp  little  dances,  this  girl  can  dance  them  too." 

Marguerite  nodded.  "Fritz  may  be  grateful 
yet  for  the  way  I  used  to  drag  him  around,  an 
unwilling  partner.  I  had  him  in  very  good  con- 
dition once.  Do  you  think  you  remember,  young 
man?  Miss  McKnight,  do  you  think  we  would 
better  go  to  that  ball?  "  Marguerite's  eyes  looked 
more  serious  and  large,  and  more  nearly  fright- 
ened, than  her  guest  had  ever  seen  them." 

"Yes,  I  would  think  about  it,"  was  the  answer, 
and  Marguerite  felt  that  this  was  equivalent  to 
another  order. 

The  next  day  Miss  McKnight  looked  in  once 
more,  and  found  her  protegee  alone. 

"That  ball  may  be  something  of  an  ordeal  for 
you,"  she  said  to  the  girl;  "I  can't  deny  it;  but 
I  will  help  you  all  I  can,  and  the  time  is  as  ripe 
as  it  ever  will  be  for  you  to  take  the  plunge." 

"I  feel  like  a  fish,"  said  Marguerite,  "who  is 
trying  to  make  up  its  mind  to  take  an  excursion 
into  the  atmosphere." 


172  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Yes,  I  understand.  If  you  were  not  of  good 
fibre,  I  should  not  expect  you  to  make  a  success 
of  it.  You  may  have  something  to  endure;  but 
what  are  a  few  stares  and  a  cold  shoulder  or 
two?" 

"  If  Fritz  perceived  them,  they  would  be  enough. 
It  would  be  his  last  appearance  at  a  social  func- 
tion in  Montaigne." 

"I  am  calculating  that  he  won't  perceive  them." 

"He  may  receive  them  on  his  own  account  in 
punishment  of  his  temerity  in  bringing  me,"  said 
Marguerite,  with  a  burning  blush  of  excitement. 

"Don't  borrow  trouble,  child,"  said  Miss  Mc- 
Knight  cheerily.  "That  brother  of  yours  carries 
his  credentials  in  his  face  and  physique.  He  is 
entirely  unsuspicious  of  these  narrow,  spiteful 
ebullitions  we  are  talking  about.  I  think  if  he 
should  receive  one,  he  would  look  down  with  that 
kind,  questioning  gaze  of  his  at  the  little  wasp 
who  stung  him,  and  decide  that  tight  lacing  had 
spoiled  her  disposition.  You  remember  the  story 
of  the  brawny  miner  who  picked  up  a  dainty  pistol 
belonging  to  an  Eastern  dude,  and  said :  '  If  you 
should  ever  shoot  me  with  that,  and  I  should  find 
it  out,  I  'd  lick  you  like  thunder. ' ' 

Marguerite  laughed,  and  her  spirits  rose. 

"I  won't  be  a  coward,"  she  answered.  "No- 
thing venture,  nothing  have." 

"That  is  right,"  returned  the  other  with  satis- 
faction. "Now  let  us  talk  about  your  gown." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE   ATHLETIC    CLUB    BALL. 

IT  was  a  matter  of  course  in  the  Ormond  house- 
hold that  when  the  girls  were  going  out  to  any 
entertainment,  the  energies  of  the  feminine  por- 
tion of  the  family  should  be  concentrated  on 
Madeline's  toilet.  Mother  and  sister  took  equal 
pleasure  in  setting  off  the  girl's  exquisite  pretti- 
ness  to  the  best  advantage,  and  when  they  had 
finished,  exchanged  significant  glances  of  covert 
admiration  which  they  fondly  imagined  she  did 
not  observe.  Little  wonder  that  she  came  to  ac- 
cept their  ministrations  as  merely  her  due,  and 
was  exacting  in  her  demands. 

No  one,  in  her  estimation,  could  dress  her  hair 
so  becomingly  as  Katherine ;  but  on  the  night  •  of 
the  Athletic  Club's  reception,  she  was  not  entirely 
pleased  with  her  sister's  efforts. 

"Your  fingers  are  all  thumbs,"  she  complained, 
as  she  sat  before  her  dressing-table,  while  Kath- 
erine twisted  for  the  second  time  the  silky  hair 
that  was  proving  unruly.  "What  is  the  matter 
with  you?  I  want  to  look  better  than  usual  this 
evening,  not  worse,  and  I  must  do  so,  if  we  don't 
get  started  till  midnight." 


174  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"So  you  shall,"  returned  Katherine  good- 
naturedly.  "You  will  look  like  a  dryad  in  that 
pale  green  and  silver  gown;  but  stop  gazing  at 
nie  in  the  glass."  Madeline  was  slightly  frown- 
ing in  her  impatience.  "I'm  so  modest,  it  em- 
barrasses me." 

Madeline  lowered  her  eyes  to  her  pink  finger- 
nails. "I  don't  mind  telling  you  that  I  am  out 
of  sorts  about  to-night  any  way,"  she  returned. 
"I  expected  surely  one  of  the  reception  commit- 
tee would  ask  me  to  receive  with  her.  It  is  very 
strange  that  Miss  McKnight  didn't,  so  long  as 
she  did  n't  ask  you.  Of  course  she  likes  you 
best." 

"I  shouldn't  think  you  would  feel  that  at  all. 
You  know  those  positions  are  always  given  the 
debutantes." 

"I  believe  it  was  just  stupidity  in  Miss  Mc- 
Knight. I  asked  Jasper  the  other  day  who  was 
going  to  receive  with  her,  and  he  said  he  didn't 
know." 

"Oh,  Madeline.     I  'm  afraid  that  sounded  " 

"No,  it  didn't.  Not  the  way  I  said  it.  Jas- 
per looked  rather  dazed  and  surprised,  and  I  don't 
believe,  as  he  was  n't  here  last  year,  that  he  knew 
the  reception  committee  had  girls  to  aid  them.  I 
don't  believe  Miss  McKnight  knows  it.  It  is  too 
provoking.  We  ought  to  have  coached  her ;  for 
she  takes  so  little  interest  in  society  affairs  that  I 
dare  say  at  this  moment  Jasper  is  reminding  her 
that  she  had  better  put  on  her  best  black  silk." 


THE   ATHLETIC    CLUB   BALL.  175 

Katherine  smiled.  Her  own  cheeks  were  flushed 
with  the  excitement  she  felt  this  evening,  an  emo- 
tion which  had  already  annoyed  her  sister  in  its 
results. 

"Then  beside  that,"  went  on  Madeline,  "there 
is  that  Sheldon  business.  I  suppose  you  will  fall 
on  the  necks  of  both  brother  and  sister  in  public, 
just  as  you  did  at  the  McKnights'  that  Sunday." 

"I  will  endeavor  not  to  embrace  Mr.  Sheldon; 
but,  Madeline,  don't  you  mean  to  add  your  mite 
to  making  them  welcome  and  happy  to-night  if 
they  do  come?" 

It  did  not  propitiate  Madeline  to  have  her 
important  favor  characterized  as  a  "mite."  "I 
don't  know  what  I  shall  do,"  she  replied  loftily. 
"  When  people  step  out  of  their  places,  they  must 
take  what  comes." 

"You  heard  Miss  McKnight's  public  avowal 
that  she  considers  them  her  social  equals.  Are 
we  higher  up  on  the  ladder  than  the  Wise  Wo- 
man?" asked  Katherine,  pinioning  a  golden  ten- 
dril at  the  summit  of  the  twists  she  had  coiled 
into  place.  "You  know  you  said  the  other  day 
that  we  must  agree  as  a  family  on  a  line  of  action 
or  we  should  be  ridiculous,  and  that  is  worth 
thinking  of." 

Madeline  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "Fortu- 
nately, one  does  n't  see  much  of  other  women  at 
a  ball.  If  Tom  Sheldon  does  know  how  to  dance, 
I  don't  mind  giving  him  one  number.  As  for 
the  transplanted  milliner,  you  may  have  time  to 


176  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

sit  around  in  corners  with  her,  but  I  certainly 
expect  to  be  otherwise  engaged.  There,  Kath- 
erine,  that  looks  very  well.  That  will  do.  Now 
you  would  better  go  on  and  dress,  or  Gilbert  will 
get  out  of  patience,  as  usual." 

Katherine  hastened  away  to  her  own  room  and 
made  her  toilet,  which  was  never  an  anxious  one. 
She  possessed  a  normal  share  of  girlish  vanity, 
but  she  liked  simple  clothes  for  herself  as  much 
as  she  did  elaborate  ones  for  Madeline.  Her  thick 
brown  hair  grew  prettily  about  her  face,  and  had 
in  it  a  looser  wave  than  her  sister's.  When  she 
had  twisted  it  high  upon  her  head  and  stuck 
through  it  a  golden  dagger,  put  on  white  shoes, 
a  white  low-necked  gown,  and  pulled  her  long 
gloves  up  over  her  round  arms,  she  was  ready  to 
take  her  place  in  the  giddy  throng;  and  a  desir- 
able place  it  was.  Everybody  liked  Katherine 
Ormond,  men,  women,  and  children,  one  reason 
being  that  she  was  not  always  thinking  about 
herself,  and  another  that  she  was  bright  and  good- 
natured.  Young  men  did  not  become  feverish 
over  her  dancing  programme,  nor  dwell  on  the 
thought  of  her  after  she  was  gone,  and  send  her 
flowers  without  a  cause ;  but  they  were  well  enter- 
tained while  they  were  with  her,  saw  the  world 
merrily  through  her  narrowing,  starry  eyes,  and 
unanimously  voted  her  a  trump  and  a  jolly  girl. 

This  simplicity  and  dainty  indifference  to  fur- 
belows always  characteristic  of  Katherine,  her 
brother  liked.  It  was  a  part  of  her.  When  she 


THE   ATHLETIC    CLUB    BALL.  177 

entered  the  parlor  to-night,  he  regarded  her  with 
approval. 

"The  butterfly  almost  ready?  "  he  asked. 

"Yes,  she  will  be  down  in  a  minute.  Gilbert," 
Katherine  almost  whispered  his  name  as  she  glided 
up  to  him  where  he  stood  by  the  fireplace,  "do 
you  think  they  will  be  there?" 

"From  the  interest  Miss  McKnight  takes  in 
their  fortunes,  I  rather  expect  they  will,"  he  an- 
swered. 

"I  can't  get  them  out  of  my  head  an  instant," 
said  Katherine.  "In  spite  even  of  the  Wise 
Woman's  protection,  I  feel  as  if  that  hall  would 
be  a  den  of  lions  for  Miss  Laird.  You  and  I 
must  do  all  we  can  for  them.  Mother  won't  like  it, 
I  suppose,  if  you  show  Marguerite  the  least  bit  of 
attention,  yet  if  the  men  hold  off  as  well  as  the 
girls,  I  shall  never  get  over  it,  never." 

"Oh,  I  'm  going  to  stand  by  the  daisy;  but  she 
scares  me  stiff.  I  suspect  I  shall  break  the  record 
and  strike  both  Scylla  and  Charybdis  to-night.  I 
shall  have  to  blow  on  my  fingers  all  the  time  I  am 
conversing  with  your  fair  friend,  and  afterward 
mother  will  scorch  me  with  her  displeasure." 

"Oh,  but  Marguerite  isn't  a  bit  freezing  when 
you  know  her,"  responded  Katherine  earnestly. 

"Perhaps  you  might  coach  me  a  little,"  sug- 
gested Gilbert.  "  How  would  it  do  for  me  to  say, 
'  Oh,  I  do  think  these  bias  bows  cut  square  are 
perfectly  fascinating  on  hats'?  If  I  throw  off 
some  little  thing  like  that  to  begin  with,  would 
she  thaw,  do  you  think?  " 


178  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"I  'm  sure  she  would,"  laughed  Katherine. 
"Oh,  here  comes  mother  —  te  turn  te  turn,  te  turn 
te  turn  "  —  And  when  Mrs.  Ormond  and  Made- 
line entered  the  room  they  found  the  conspirators 
indulging  in  a  guilty  and  vigorous  two-step. 

"Well,  children,  can't  you  wait?  "  laughed  the 
mother. 

" '  Oh,  nymphs  and  shepherds,  come  away, ' ' 
ejaculated  Gilbert,  pausing  to  admire  his  younger 
sister  in  her  airy  robes. 

"Well,  I'm  ready  to  come  away,"  answered 
Madeline,  smiling  complacently.  "It  is  high  time, 
too.  I  have  promised  the  first  dance  to  Jasper 
McKnight." 

The  hall  looks  very  well,"  said  Katherine. 
"Mrs.  Arnold  was  ordering  the  finishing  touches 
when  I  took  the  lamp  shade  over  this  afternoon." 

"I  wonder  if  Betty  is  going  to  receive  with 
her,"  said  Madeline,  unable  to  turn  her  mind 
away  from  the  rankling  fact  that  her  charming 
gown  would  not  appear  in  the  receiving  circle 
which  woidd  stand  among  the  palms  at  the  end  of 
the  hall. 

"Why,  no,"  replied  Katherine.  "No  doubt 
she  will  choose  Emily  Granbury,  a  debutante, 
and  her  own  niece." 

"It  is  a  very  convenient  situation,"  grumbled 
Madeline.  "There  is  none  better  for  picking  and 
choosing  one's  partners." 

"It  seems  strange  that  Edna  McKnight  should 
have  been  chosen  on  the  committee,"  remarked 


THE   ATHLETIC    CLUB   BALL.  179 

Mrs.  Ormond,  who  was  nursing  a  small  secret 
injury  of  her  own.  "I  trust  she  is  Wise  Woman 
enough  to  know  what  to  wear.  Her  evening 
gowns  must  be  two  years  old,  the  newest  of  them." 

"Follow  my  example,"  smiled  Katherine,  "and 
always  trust  the  Wise  Woman." 

Her  faith  in  this  case  was  justified  a  little  later. 
Miss  McKnight  knew  how  to  be  splendid,  and  she 
chose  to  be  so  this  evening.  As  she  stood  in  the 
bower  assigned  to  the  reception  committee,  her 
appearance  was  imposing.  Her  trailing  gown  was 
black  velvet,  the  front  of  the  corsage  frosted  white 
with  precious  lace.  In  her  fleecy  hair  stood  an 
aigrette  of  quivering  diamonds,  and  the  same 
jewels  flashed  upon  her  bosom.  Beside  her,  ap- 
parently no  less  reposeful  and  self-possessed  in 
manner,  stood  the  girl  she  had  chosen  as  her  aid, 
a  girl  who  proved  the  sensation  of  the  evening 
both  to  those  who  knew  who  she  was,  and  to  the 
many  who  either  had  never  looked  upon  her  face, 
or  else  now  failed  to  recognize  her. 

Her  dress  was  lustrous  white,  with  short, 
puffed  sleeves.  Her  smooth  neck  rose  from  a 
frill  of  white  chiffon,  and  her  head  was  set  on 
those  fine  shoulders  with  the  proud  poise  of 
strength  and  beauty.  She  carried  marguerites, 
and  in  her  coppery  hair  they  lay  or  lifted  their 
frank  faces  at  the  most  fortunate  and  becoming 
angle.  She  was  a  distinguished  specimen  of  girl- 
hood. The  other  young  creatures  serving  on  the 
same  committee,  showing  their  pleasurable  excite- 


180  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

ment  by  talking  and  laughing  at  the  same  mo- 
ment, did  not  show  to  advantage  beside  the  quiet 
maiden  with  her  gracious,  grave  countenance, 
whose  every  word  and  smile,  although  apparently 
spontaneous,  was  anxiously  weighed. 

The  Wise  Woman  had  indeed  taken  the  bull 
by  the  horns.  The  audacity  of  the  arrangement 
caused  a  great  strain  upon  Marguerite.  Nothing 
less  than  that  inheritance  of  pluck  and  stamina 
that  had  come  down  to  her  from  the  pioneers 
whose  names  were  on  those  mossy  stones  in  the 
Pokonet  cemetery  could  have  carried  her  through 
it.  One  of  the  most  painful  realizations  possible 
to  a  woman  of  her  temperament  was  upon  her. 
To  feel  that  she  was  where  she  was  not  welcome ; 
that  she  was  among  people  who  looked  down  upon 
her,  who  believed  her  to  be  pushing,  and  consid- 
ered her  elated  by  the  prominent  position  which 
she  had  succeeded  in  temporarily,  securing,  —  all 
this  was  misery  which  turned  her  pale.  She  felt 
like  one  in  a  dream  while  hearing  Miss  Mc- 
Knight's  pleasant  voice  repeat:  "Allow  me  to 
present  my  young  friend  Miss  Laird.  Let  me 
introduce  you  to  my  friend  Miss  Laird.  I  believe 
you  know  my  friend  Miss  Laird." 

The  reply  to  this  latter  form  was  nearly  always 
courteous,  but  the  girl  sometimes  detected  a 
glance  or  a  gesture  which,  in  her  acutely  sensitive 
state,  was  felt  like  a  dagger  thrust. 

Involuntarily,  her  eyes  often  roved  about  the 
hall  in  search  of  Fritz,  to  gather  new  strength  from 


THE   ATHLETIC    CLUB   BALL.  181 

a  glimpse  of  his  broad  shoulders,  if  she  could  not 
see  his  face. 

Dr.  McKnight  was  personally  conducting  him 
about  the  room,  introducing  him,  and  spicing  each 
introduction  with  remarks  which  made  stiffness 
impossible,  and  heightened  Fritz's  impression  that 
McKnight  was  a  most  friendly  and  pleasant  fel- 
low, although  he  was  leagues  away  from  a  suspi- 
cion of  the  importance  of  the  favor  that  was  being 
done  him. 

He  had  joined  a  club  which  had  invited  him  to 
a  party,  and  he  was  glad  for  Rita's  sake.  She 
used  to  enjoy  dancing  so  much,  he  hoped  she 
would  have  a  good  time.  She  certainly  looked 
stunning  in  that  shiny  white  dress,  and  it  was 
very  fortunate  that  Miss  McKnight  could  help 
her  to  get  acquainted  with  the  Montaigne  people. 
Marguerite  used  to  hold  silly  notions  about  not 
being  received  in  society.  Ha,  ha !  That  was  a 
good  one.  He  watched  her,  looking  like  a  prin- 
cess and  inclining  graciously  as  guest  followed 
guest,  and  he  determined  to  tease  her  a  little  to- 
morrow. 

There  were  a  number  of  pretty  girls  here. 
Fritz  liked  to  look  at  them.  He  happened  to  be 
glancing  toward  the  door  when  the  Ormonds  en- 
tered, and  his  eyes  grew  bright  as  he  saw  Made- 
line in  her  nymph-like  garb. 

"What  a  fairy  she  is!"  he  thought.  He  had 
forgiven  the  Ormond  family  the  wound  they  had 
dealt  him  through  this  representative.  They  were 


182  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

all  very  civil  to  him.  Evidently  they  knew  no- 
thing of  that  fortnight  whose  experiences  closed 
one  chapter  in  his  life  and  changed  him  from  boy 
to  man. 

As  the  Ormonds  entered,  they  flashed  looks  of 
amazement  at  one  another.  Madeline's  heart 
pounded  as  loudly  as  Katherine's,  but  it  was  not 
quickened  by  the  same  sentiments.  She  was  even 
more  jealous  than  angry.  It  was  too  bad  of  Miss 
McKnight;  it  was  too  bad  of  Jasper;  the  whole 
world  was  at  fault  in  that  that  Hodgson  creature 
should  have  been  chosen  to  fill  the  post  of  honor 
rather  than  her  own  sylph-like  self. 

"Let  us  go  to  Mrs.  Arnold,"  she  said  chokingly 
to  her  mother.  "It  is  not  necessary  to  speak  to 
Miss  McKnight  at  once." 

"Very  well,  my  pet,"  murmured  Mrs.  Ormond 
sympathetically. 

The  crowd  in  that  portion  of  the  room  made  it 
easy  for  their  quartette  to  approach  the  receiving- 
party  at  different  points,  and  Katherine  and  Gil- 
bert, with  one  mute  look  of  mutual  congratulation, 
found  their  way  to  the  Wise  Woman  with  all  haste. 

"At  last,  tardy  ones!"  was  the  latter's  greet- 
ing. "Miss  Laird,  I  am  sure,  is  glad  to  see  your 
face  in  a  place  of  strangers." 

Katherine  took  Marguerite's  hand  with  a  seri- 
ous, sweet  look,  and,  in  defiance  of  all  rules  of 
etiquette,  deliberately  gave  her  her  first  kiss. 

"Not  half  so  glad  as  we  are  to  see  hers,"  she 
answered  quietly. 


THE   ATHLETIC    CLUB   BALL.  183 

Marguerite  could  not  speak,  and  the  revulsion 
of  feeling  she  experienced  might  have  been  dan- 
gerous to  her  self-control  had  Gilbert  not  stood 

O 

there,  claiming  her  attention. 

"I  believe  the  last  time  I  saw  you,  Miss  Laird, 
you  put  on  my  hat  for  me,"  he  said. 

"I  often  put  on  hats  for  people,"  she  answered, 
with  the  ghost  of  her  mischievous  smile. 

Miss  McKnight's  alert  eyes  were  studying  the 
young  man's  face.  Apparently  satisfied  with 
what  she  saw,  she  spoke  authoritatively. 

"  Gilbert,  I  am  going  to  give  you  the  honor  of 
making  up  Miss  Laird's  card." 

"I  shall  dance  with  Fritz  only,  I  think,  to- 
night, dear  Miss  McKnight,"  said  Marguerite, 
turning  beseeching  eyes  upon  her  chaperone. 

"Oh,  now,  we  can't  have  that!"  exclaimed 
Gilbert. 

"Indeed  we  cannot,"  added  Miss  McKnight. 
"Go  right  about  it,  young  man,  and  mind  you 
select  people  who  will  make  a  good  showing  of 
Montaigne's  terpsichorean  abilities." 

Marguerite  felt  crushed  by  a  horrible  prospect 
of  unwilling,  perfunctory  partners,  whose  sisters 
would  chaff  them  to-morrow. 

"I  feel  ill,"  she  murmured,  "really." 

The  Wise  Woman  fixed  her  with  her  bright, 
steady  gaze.  "Look  into  my  eyes.  I  don't  think 
you  know  how  attractive  you  are.  You  must  not 
feel  ill  yet.  An  hour  or  two  hence  we  will  dis- 
cuss it." 


184  THE    WTSE    WOMAN. 

"I  shall  take  two  myself,  if  I  may,"  said  Gil- 
bert, drawing  his  sister  back  again  to  make  his 
remark. 

Miss  McKnight  waved  him  off  with  her  fan. 
"You  have  us  quite  at  your  mercy.  Good  even- 
ing, Mrs.  AUington.  Let  me  present  to  you  my 
friend  Miss  Laird." 

"Thunder!  "  groaned  Gilbert,  as  they  moved 
away.  "Did  you  hear  me  talk  shop  to  her  the 
first  thing  I  did?" 

Katherine  squeezed  his  arm  excitedly.  "You 
poor  boy,  you  looked  so  crestfallen  for  a  second ; 
but  did  you  ever  see  such  a  pair?  The  Wise 
Woman  looks  like  a  duchess,  and  I  never  saw 
a  pictured  princess  who  appeared  more  royal 
than  Miss  Laird;  but  she  doesn't  like  that  po- 
sition. I  can  imagine  she  has  suffered  to-night, 
and  I  am  so  glad  the  dancing  will  begin  before 
long." 

"Do  you  think  so?"  indignantly.  "The  devil 
take  the  women !  " 

"Including  your  mother  and  sister?  " 

"What  has  become  of  them?  I  don't  believe 
they  have  gone  near  her."  Gilbert  looked  about 
wrathfully. 

"Never  mind.  I  don't  worry  much.  One  thing 
mother  will  never  wittingly  do,  nor  let  Madeline 
do  either,  is  to  offend  the  Wise  Woman." 

"There  they  are,  over  there.  I  see  a  row  of 
four  swallow-tails,  and  probably  Madeline  is  be- 
hind them.  I  will  leave  you  with  the  mater, 


THE   ATHLETIC   CLUB   BALL.  185 

Katherine,  for  I  have  my  hands  full.  I  wish  I 
could  take  every  one  of  her  dances  myself,"  added 
Gilbert. 

"Mother  would  be  so  pleased!"  returned  his 
sister.  "  Be  cool  and  sensible,  as  you  always  are, 
Gilbert.  Remember,  you  are  going  to  do  your 
part  now  to  make  her  a  success.  Even  if  you 
don't  have  one  dance  with  her  yourself,  it  is  no 
matter." 

"Indeed.  Is  that  your  idea?  Strange  how 
opinions  differ,  isn't  it?  I'll  have  two  dances 
with  her,  if  it 's  the  last  act.  Mother,  here  is  your 
other  swan.  Remember,  you  have  the  first  with 
me,  Katherine.  Au  revoir,"  and  he  departed 
swiftly. 

"What  is  Gilbert's  hurry?"  asked  Mrs.  Or- 
mond,  who  had  been  on  the  point  of  detaining 
him. 

"Miss  McKnight  asked  him  to  fill  Miss  Laird's 
card,  so  the  double  duty  makes  him  busy." 

Mrs.  Ormond  stared  and  then  burst  into  a  little 
laugh.  "Katherine,  I  feel  that  I  am  growing 
hysterical.  Is  Edna  McKnight  in  her  dotage? 
What  effrontery  to  press  my  children  into  her 
service!  See  Jasper  towing  that  Sheldon  about. 
What  a  bore  for  the  poor  boy !  It  is  a  wonder 
you  aren't  made  to  stand  up  there  and  hold  my 
lady's  train.  I  must  say  Edna  is  making  the 
most  of  her  little  brief  authority." 

"Be  very  careful,  mother,"  murmured  Kather- 
ine. "You  are  excited,  and  you  may  say  some- 


186  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

thing  to  some  one  else  that  you  will  be  sorry  for 
to-morrow.  Be  prudent,  dear.  See  how  sweet 
Madeline  looks;  those  men  are  almost  quarreling 
for  her  dances." 

In  the  midst  of  the  girl's  soothing  words,  Betty 
Arnold's  brother  Edward  advanced  and  greeted 
Katherine  and  her  mother. 

"Do  tell  me,"  he  said,  "  who  is  that  stunning 
girl  Miss  McKnight  just  introduced  me  to?  I 
think  she  said  her  name  was  Laird  or  Caird." 

"Laird  is  the  name,"  returned  Katherine,  press- 
ing her  foot  against  her  mother's,  for  she  felt  her 
quivering  to  speak. 

"Visiting  the  McKnights,  I  suppose,"  went  on 
the  young  man.  "I  have  long  been  wishing  to 
call  on  Miss  McKnight.  I  shall  not  put  it  off 
another  twenty -four  hours." 

"No,"  replied  Katherine;  "Miss  Laird  has 
come  to  Montaigne  to  live,  and  Miss  McKnight 
likes  her  very  much,  and  is  introducing  her,  as  she 
lives  alone  here  with  her  half-brother,  Mr.  Shel- 
don. He  is  over  there  with  Dr.  McKnight." 

"Oho.  Is  that  fellow  with  the  biceps  her 
brother?  I  've  met  him  here  at  the  gym.  Well, 
she  has  a  big  brother,  sure  enough.  I  should  n't 
want  to  offend  her." 

"You  would  like  to  dance  with  her,  though, 
I'm  sure.  You  know  your  dancing  isn't  offen- 
sive. Gilbert  has  her  card.  You  will  have  to 
make  love  to  him." 

"Thanks  awfully  for  the  tip.     I'll  take  yours 


THE   ATHLETIC    CLUB   BALL.  187 

first,  though,  if  I  may.  Are  you  going  to  let  ine 
have  two?  Mrs.  Orinond,  can't  I  have  two?  " 

When  the  rather  noisy  young  gentleman  had 
withdrawn,  Mrs.  Ormond  bent  reproachful  eyes 
on  her  elder  daughter. 

"I  see  you  are  determined  to  do  all  you  can," 
she  said. 

Katherine  gave  her  mother's  hand  a  filial 
squeeze.  "You  have  always  been  trying  to  instill 
into  me  what  you  call  a  little  worldly  wisdom," 
she  answered.  "Take  a  leaf  out  of  your  own 
book,  and  yield  gracefully  to  the  movement  of  the 
popular  tide." 

"I  never  asked  you  to  help  make  the  tide." 

"Oh,  I  am  the  least  influential  of  persons. 
Madeline,  now,  might  head  a  faction  against 
Marguerite;  but  would  it  be  dignified,  or  redound 
to  her  credit?  There  is  nothing  to  worry  about, 
mother,"  added  Katherine,  who  understood  that  it 
was  Marguerite's  beauty  and  temporary  promi- 
nence which  incensed  Madeline  and,  through  her, 
her  mother.  "People  find  their  own  level  very 
soon.  The  Wise  Woman  cannot  buoy  up  these 
friends  any  length  of  time.  Just  watch  results ; 
and  meanwhile,  mamma,"  Katherine  looked  at  her 
mother  coaxingly,  "just  suppose  you  and  Made- 
line had  left  me,  and  Gilbert  and  I  were  alone  in 
a  strange  town.  Would  you  not  be  glad  to  have 
people  kind  to  us?  There  is  Mr.  Sheldon  going 
up  to  Madeline  now."  Katherine  finished  as  qui- 
etly as  she  had  begun ;  but  her  heart  gave  a  queer 


188  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

little  jump.  She  hardly  understood  why  her  in- 
terest should  be  so  vital  that  it  annoyed  her  to 
have  to  turn  to  greet  two  men  friends  who  ap- 
proached and  asked  for  her  card. 

They  made  it  impossible  for  her  to  overlook  the 
other  interview. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

THE   SPELL    OF   THE   WALTZ. 

THE  little  skirmish  which  had  taken  place  over 
Madeline's  programme  before  her  admirers  with- 
drew had  restored  something  of  that  young  lady's 
habitual  complacence;  and  when  Dr.  McKnight 
approached  and  presented  his  companion,  she 
beamed  upon  the  latter  with  arch  grace. 

Jasper  said  something  about  the  first  dance, 
and  then  vanished,  leaving  Sheldon  stranded  near 
the  siren  who  had  once  proved  so  dangerous  to 
his  peace. 

"This  is  a  brilliant  sight,"  he  said,  in  his  slow, 
quiet  speech.  "I  never  saw  so  many  diamonds 
together." 

"There  now,"  she  replied,  "you  spoiled  your 
remark  by  the  addition.  I  am  not  wearing  a 
single  diamond.  I  thought  you  were  compliment- 
ing the  glitter  of  my  silver." 

Fritz  paused,  and  scrutinized  her  prettiness. 
"You  look  like  a  mermaid,"  he  said. 

This  declaration  caused  Madeline  to  flush  vio- 
lently. She  expected  that  the  chance  simile  would 
embarrass  the  speaker  as  well,  or  had  he  said  it 
purposely?  Had  he  never  been  able  to  forget 


190  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

her?  The  thought  was  full  of  charm;  for  all 
his  undesirable  connections  could  not  dim  the  fact 
that  her  companion  was,  so  far  as  looks  went,  the 
finest  man  in  the  room. 

"Poor  little  mermaid,  so  far  from  the  sea!" 
she  answered  coquettishly. 

"Have  you  been  going  down  to  Pokonet  since 
the  summer  we  were  there  together?  "  Sheldon's 
voice  was  so  calm  and  friendly  that  Madeline 
heard  it  in  surprise.  How  strange  that  he  should 
mention  the  place  to  her. 

"I  haven't  been  there  since,"  she  replied, 
preferring  to  believe  in  his  duplicity  rather  than 
to  accept  the  unpalatable  fact  that  he  had  not 
asked  the  Hodgsons  about  her.  "Dear  old  Po- 
konet," she  added  pensively.  "We  can't  feel 
quite  the  same  about  any  other  resort.  Childish 
associations  are  so  strong  and  sweet." 

"I  have  a  variety  of  associations  with  Pokonet," 
returned  Fritz.  The  remark  was  all  very  well. 
It  was  the  tone  of  it  which  displeased  Madeline. 
"  My  childish  ones  cannot  be  so  pleasant  as  yours. 
I  was  a  very  homesick  boy,  there." 

"How  about  the  later  experiences?  "  questioned 
Madeline  mentally,  and  she  flung  a  quick  glance 
at  the  speaker.  He  caught  it  in  his  strong  gaze, 
and  the  unpleasant  suspicion  assailed  her  that  he 
would  be  calmly  willing  she  should  look  through 
the  windows  of  his  soul  and  see  all  that  was 
there. 

She  took  her  determination  quickly.     "I  can- 


THE   SPELL    OF   THE    WALTZ.  191 

not  say  that  I  have  anything  but  childish  associa- 
tions with  Pokonet,"  she  said,  with  a  careless 
shrug.  "I  fancied  myself  quite  grown  up  that 
last  summer  I  visited  the  place,  but  now  I  know 
what  an  irresponsible  child  I  really  was.  Girls 
will  be  girls,  and  behave  idiotically  at  times.  I 
am  sure  I  gave  the  Hodgsons  a  great  deal  of  trou- 
ble, and  you  did  not  escape.  I  wasn't  always 
obedient  to  the  bathing-master,  as  I  recall  those 
rather  hazy  experiences." 

"Yes,  I  was  sometimes  afraid  you  would  get  in 
too  deep." 

No  word  of  his  own  danger  of  getting  in  too 
deep.  Madeline  was  justly  indignant.  How  dif- 
ferent these  looks  and  words  from  the  impassioned 
fragmentary  ones  which  no  subsequent  love-mak- 
ing had  been  able  to  obliterate  from  her  memory. 
Had  she  dreamed  it  that  this  cool,  self-possessed 
man  once  turned  red  and  white  at  her  lightest 
speech,  and  was  swayed  by  her  glance  in  any 
direction  she  listed? 

She  was  deeply  piqued.  "What  a  pity  he 
doesn't  dance!  "  was  her  swift  thought.  "I  shall 
not  be  able  to  meet  him  again  to-night." 

Then  suddenly  Gilbert  approached,  his  eyes 
alight  with  interest.  "Here,  Sheldon,  do  you 
care  anything  about  having  a  dance  with  your 
sister?"  he  asked  briskly. 

"Of  course  I  do.  Is  it  time  for  me  to  go  to 
her?"  Sheldon  turned  to  excuse  himself  from 
Madeline  when  Gilbert's  hand  fell  on  his  arm. 


192  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Not  at  all,"  he  responded  gayly.  "I  'm  your 
man.  If  you  treat  me  with  proper  deference,  I 
will  let  you  have  a  dance." 

Madeline  stared,  and  Sheldon  smiled.  "You 
have  my  sister's  card  there?  Why,  that  is  very 
good  of  you.  I  suppose  Rita  is  rather  too  busy 
to  take  care  of  it  herself." 

"Yes.  To  tell  the  truth,  I  have  saved  you  two 
numbers.  The  first  and  last." 

"I  'm  sure  you  are  very  kind,"  answered  Shel- 
don, more  amused  than  Madeline  by  Gilbert's 
manner  as  he  affixed  his  initials  to  the  blank 
spaces.  "I  think  I  would  better  be  getting  my 
own  card  and  writing  down  these  important  en- 
gagements," he  added,  and  with  a  bow  to  Made- 
line, he  turned  away,  without,  she  angrily  con- 
sidered, one  word  to  beseech  her  to  save  him  a 
dance. 

"  He  will  find  out  I  am  not  so  easily  to  be  had 
when  he  wants  me,"  she  thought.  "What  are 
you  doing  with  Miss  Laird's  card?"  she  asked 
aloud  of  her  brother,  who  was  absorbed  in  study- 
ing the  same. 

"I  have  filled  it,  at  the  Wise  Woman's  request. 
See  here,  Madeline.  How's  this?  Pretty  good 
selection,  isn't  it?  "  Gilbert  displayed  the  closely 
written  pages  which  promised  Miss  Laird  a  busy 
night  of  it. 

Madeline  pushed  away  the  autographs  of  her 
admirers  with  a  decided  movement.  "What  is  it 
to  me!"  she  said,  so  much  fierceness  in  her  low 


THE   SPELL    OF   THE    WALTZ.  193 

tone  that  her  brother  stared  at  her  with  round 
eyes. 

"Where  's  your  card,  Maidie?  "  he  asked,  after 
a  pause.  "I  'm  not  down  there  yet." 

"It  is  full." 

"Oh,  come  now.  Conventionality  doesn't  go 
so  far  as  to  demand  that  a  man  shall  believe  that 
when  his  sister  says  it." 

"Believe  it  or  not,  as  you  like." 

"Don't  be  crusty,"  coaxingly.  "It  won't  be 
any  kind  of  an  evening  without  a  dance  with 
you." 

"How  many  have  you  taken  with  the  milliner?  " 

"Two,  but  I  want  two  with  you.  My  card 
isn't  anywhere  near  full." 

"Mine  is,  I  told  you.  Good-evening,  Mr. 
Arnold.  My  card?  Certainly,  only  don't  take 
number  ten.  I  am  saving  that  for  a  rest." 

"As  if  we  didn't  know  what  that  means!" 
returned  Arnold  pensively.  "  I  wish  I  were  the 
man  you  are  going  to  sit  it  out  with." 

"  I  will  sit  out  your  dance  with  pleasure,  if  you 
prefer." 

"I  don't  like  your  sister's  tone  of  alacrity, 
Ormond.  Do  you  suppose  she  is  reflecting  on 
my  dancing?  I'll  tell  you,  Miss  Madeline,  let 
me  have  two,  and  we  can  sit  out  one  of  them." 

"No,  you  can't  have  two,"  returned  the  little 
autocrat  decidedly. 

Arnold,  with  an  ostentatious  sigh,  wrote  his 
name  on  the  card. 


194  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

Gilbert  bit  his  lip  and  regarded  his  sister. 
"Sure  you  are  not  saving  number  ten  for  me?" 
he  asked  briefly. 

"Sure,"  she  answered,  and  he  turned  on  his 
heel.  Number  ten  was  a  waltz,  and  Madeline 
had  suddenly  decided  to  save  it  for  Fritz  Sheldon ; 
but  it  may  as  well  be  stated  here  that  he  never 
came  for  it. 

Except  for  this  blank,  her  card  was  full  when 
Dr.  McKnight  approached  and  offered  his  arm. 

"I  have  been  so  busy  this  evening,  I  have  not 
looked  after  my  own  interests  with  my  accustomed 
strict  attention.  Am  I  going  to  have  your  last 
dance?" 

"I  am  afraid  not,"  said  Madeline,  throwing  a 
flattering  tinge  of  regret  into  her  tone. 

"Nor  a  second  one  at  all?" 

"I  'm  afraid  not,  unless  I  give  you  the  number 
I  have  saved  for  a  rest.  Mother  insists  upon 
that.  She  keeps  up  the  interesting  little  fiction 
that  I  am  delicate.  Nothing  was  ever  more  ab- 
surd." 

"Your  daughter  is  libeling  you;"  the  doctor 
paused  a  moment  to  address  Mrs.  Ormond,  as 
they  passed  her. 

"I  haven't  a  doubt  of  it,"  returned  the  mother, 
casting  proud  eyes  on  her  youngest.  "Jasper,  I 
wonder  what  you  will  think  of  Katherine's  dan- 
cing all  the  evening,"  she  added  anxiously.  "I 
tell  her  I  don't  know  about  her  filling  her  pro- 
gramme." 


THE   SPELL    OF   THE    WALTZ.  195 

"I  don't,  either,"  said  Katherine,  with  her 
merry  glance.  "It  isn't  full  yet.  I'm  about 
discouraged." 

"Oh,  I  know,  you  are  saving  another  for  me. 
You  are  n't  so  cruel  as  your  sister." 

"No,  I  'm  never  so  cruel  as  Madeline  at  a 
dance.  I  haven't  another  for  you,  though.  You 
needn't  stop.  I  like  variety  in  my  partners." 

"Then  seeing  there  isn't  a  second  chance  for 
me,  I  will  advise  you  not  to  dance  every  time, 
Miss  Katherine.  It  would  be  a  risk." 

The  couple  moved  on,  and  as  they  did  so  Made- 
line perceived  Fritz  Sheldon  approaching  her  sis- 
ter. Her  interest  was  so  great  to  know  what  they 
were  going  to  say  to  each  other  that  she  could 
scarcely  pay  attention  to  her  partner.  She  con- 
sidered, however,  that  her  mother  would  prove  a 
trusty  reporter. 

Katherine  looked  up  with  a  welcoming  smile, 
and,  in  spite  of  Mrs.  Ormond's  haughty  inclina- 
tion of  the  head,  the  new-comer  showed  that  he 
was  pleased  to  discover  friends. 

"I  suppose  it  is  a  late  hour  to  ask  to  see  a 
young  lady's  card,"  he  said. 

"Not  too  late  for  mine,"  replied  Katherine 
brightly.  She  handed  it  to  him  as  he  spoke. 

"Oh,  you  have  three  left,"  remarked  Shel- 
don, as  he  examined  it.  "May  I  have  one  of 
them?" 

"Certainly,"  replied  Katherine,  and  her  suspi- 
cious mother  objected  to  her  tone,  and  told  her 


196  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

next  day  that  she  might  as  well  have  ejaculated : 
" Do  take  all  three!" 

"You  may  have  to  excuse  her  when  the  time 
comes,  Mr.  Sheldon,"  said  Mrs.  Ormond,  with 
impressive  gravity.  "My  daughter's  dancing 
through  a  long  programme  is  an  experiment." 

"Of  course,"  agreed  the  young  man  genially. 
"After  all,  the  sociability  of  the  occasion  is  the 
main  point.  If  Miss  Ormond  will  let  me  talk  to 
her,  I  shall  be  satisfied." 

"Has  no  idea  of  his  place,"  thought  Mrs.  Or- 
mond, irritated.  "Doesn't  seem  to  have  the 
least  notion  that  chatting  with  Katherine  isn't 
just  as  appropriate  business  for  him  as  it  is  for 
Ed  Arnold." 

"You  don't  care  for  dancing,  particularly, 
then,"  said  Katherine,  looking  up  at  him  and  tap- 
ping one  of  her  round  arms  with  her  downy  fan. 
"He  will  probably  tread  on  me,"  she  thought, 
"but  I  don't  care." 

"Perhaps  I  do,"  Sheldon  answered.  "I  have 
never  had  very  much  time  to  think  about  it.  My 
sister  is  fond  enough  of  it  for  the  family.  You 
know  Marguerite  is  an  enthusiast." 

Mrs.  Ormond  cleared  her  throat.  From  her 
seat  she  could  catch  the  fitful  blaze  of  the  Wise 
Woman's  jewels,  and  the  graceful  lines  of  the 
white  figure  beside  her. 

"Your  sister  will  be  very  tired  to-morrow,  I  am 
sure.  Fancy  thinking  of  dancing  after  standing- 
there  so  long,"  she  said  curtly. 


THE   SPELL    OF   THE    WALTZ.  197 

"If  any  girl  can  endure  it,  Marguerite  can," 
responded  the  brother,  his  grave  face  lighting 
with  his  slow,  bright  smile.  "She  is  strong." 

Mrs.  Ormond  distinguished  her  son's  fair  head 
as  Gilbert  hurried  toward  Miss  McKnight. 

"Here  is  your  card,  Miss  Laird,"  he  said.  "I 
hope  you  will  be  pleased  with  the  way  I  have  car- 
ried out  my  very  pleasant  mission.  You  see  your 
brother  comes  first,  I  second  (that 's  my  perqui- 
site, and  there 's  another  one  a  little  further 
down),  and  Dr.  McKnight  third." 

"And  I  wish  that  was  all,  I  assure  you,"  re- 
turned Marguerite,  faintly  smiling.  "I  thank 
you  though,  sincerely,  Mr.  Ormond." 

"Fie,  don't  say  such  crazy  things,  child;  and, 
Gilbert,  be  careful  you  don't  repeat  nonsense !  If 
Miss  Laird  feels  as  I  do,  I  don't  wonder  she  wants 
to  get  into  some  soft  cushioned  corner  and  rest ; 
but  exercise  will  rest  her." 

"We  will  sit  out  one  of  our  dances,  if  you 
wish,"  Gilbert  was  saying  when  Madeline  and 
Dr.  McKnight  approached,  the  former  most  re- 
luctantly. 

Miss  McKnight 's  keen  eyes  were  upon  her,  and 
she  assumed  an  innocent  expression. 

"Good  evening,  Madeline;  I  haven't  seen  you 
before,  you  little  wood  nymph." 

"I  have,"  said  Marguerite,  and  Madeline  did 
not  love  her  at  the  moment  she  touched  her  hand. 
Miss  Laird  instinctively  knew  Madeline  to  be  one 
of  her  bitterest  opponents.  "From  our  place 


198  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

here,"  she  continued,  "we  overlook  all  the  cos- 
tumes in  the  hall ;  and  the  gown  I  selected  as  the 
prettiest  any  girl  was  wearing,  I  found  adorned 
Miss  Madeline  Ormond,  when  you  came  a  little 
nearer." 

"It  is  very  sweet  of  you  to  say  so,"  returned 
Madeline,  still  leaning  on  Dr.  McKnight's  arm; 
and  it  was  sweet  of  Marguerite,  there  is  no  doubt 
of  that,  but  it  was  sincere,  too,  and  if  she  had  not 
looked  so  beautiful  in  her  modesty  and  grace  as 
she  said  it,  Madeline  could  almost  have  liked  her 
for  it,  especially  as  Dr.  McKnight  went  on  in  his 
usual  half -humorous,  half -earnest  fashion :  — 

"Oh,  that  is  the  usual  thing,  Miss  Laird. 
Miss  Madeline  Ormond 's  costumes  are  not  mere 
gowns,  they  are  events." 

"Your  nephew  always  makes  fun  of  me,  Miss 
McKnight,"  pouted  Madeline,  wondering  if  the 
Wise  Woman's  splendid  diamonds  were  her  per- 
sonal property,  or  family  jewels  which  might  be 
expected  to  revert  to  Jasper's  wife. 

"Too  bad,  too  bad,  dear,"  returned  Miss  Mc- 
Knight, touching  the  girl  under  her  chin  with  her 
fan. 

The  musicians  modulated  from  the  march  they 
had  been  playing  into  the  swaying  rhythm  of  a 
waltz,  and  Fritz  Sheldon  crossed  the  hall  toward 
his  sister. 

Marguerite,  with  much  gay  energy,  had  con- 
ducted dancing  classes  in  the  little  flat  each  even- 
ing of  the  past  week,  and  her  brother  had  some  of 


THE    SPELL    OF    THE    WALTZ.  199 

their  experiences  in  mind  as  he  smilingly  ap- 
proached her  now. 

Marguerite  could  but  marvel  at  his  nonchalant 
expression,  which  betrayed  so  different  a  mental 
state  from  her  own. 

The  muscles  of  her  face  felt  stiff,  and  there  was 
tension  throughout  her  body 

"Do  you  trust  me?"  asked  Fritz,  as  he  drew 
near.  "My  sister  has  been  rubbing  up  my  ac- 
complishments," he  added,  addressing  Miss  Mc- 
Knight. 

"And  to  some  purpose,  I  have  no  doubt,"  was 
the  confident  answer.  "Brains  tell,  whether  they 
are  applied  to  dancing  or  to  the  perfecting  of  a 
steam  gauge.  Now  school  is  out,  Marguerite. 
Go  and  have  a  good  time.  Business  before  pleas- 
ure, but  sometimes  pleasure  is  business,  remem- 
ber." 

Marguerite  understood  the  significant  gaze  that 
accompanied  these  brisk  words.  She  knew  that 
the  next  grim  duty  was  to  enjoy  herself;  to  be 
easily  amused,  and  to  amuse.  It  was  no  time  yet 
for  passivity. 

She  felt  the  truth  of  this,  but  oh,  what  rest  it 
was  to  drop  her  hand  upon  Fritz's  strong  encir- 
cling arm,  and  be  borne  out  upon  the  slippery 
floor  without  need  for  speech,  the  alien  world 
obscured  temporarily  by  a  big  broadcloth  shoul- 
der. 

Sheldon's  anxious  responsibility  in  the  novel 
business  of  guiding  monopolized  his  attention,  and 


200  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

Marguerite  rested,  rested,  to  the  sweep  of  the 
good  music,  floating  hither  and  thither  with  the 
absence  of  effort  belonging  to  a  dancer  both  born 
and  made. 

"Hi,  there!"  exclaimed  Sheldon  once.  "We 
nearly  ran  into  Miss  Madeline.  She  wouldn't 
have  much  chance  if  we  should  hit  her."  He 
laughed  with  some  nervousness.  "Say,  Rita,  how 
is  this?"  he  added  exultantly.  "There  is  n't  so 
much  carnage  as  I  expected,  eh?" 

"It  is  fine,  Fritz,"  murmured  the  girl.  "I 
wish  I  could  dance  with  you  all  the  evening." 

"Pshaw!  You  don't  either,"  was  the  delighted 
response.  "I  do  seem  to  catch  on,  though,  don't 
I?"  he  added,  transported  with  the  idea  that  the 
party  was  being  a  grand  success.  How  jolly  it 
was  for  Rita  to  get  out  of  her  rut!  He  didn't 
believe  she  had  ever  had  such  a  good  time  in  her 
life.  "Oh!  Did  n't  see  them !  Excuse  me,"  he 
nodded  toward  Gilbert  and  Katherine,  with  whom 
he  had  collided  sharply.  "  Eternal  vigilance  seems 
to  be  the  price,  et  cetera,"  he  added,  as  Gilbert 
nodded  and  smiled  in  return. 

Marguerite  slipped  easily  back  into  step  with 
him  after  the  jar,  and  did  not  attempt  to  raise 
her  eyes  above  her  temporary  and  blessed  barri- 
cade. 

"Who  else  have  you  on  your  card?  "  she  asked. 

"Nobody  except  Miss  Ormond." 

"Madeline?" 

"No,  the  other.     I  relied  on  the  reputation  you 


THE   SPELL    OF   THE    WALTZ.  201 

gave  her  for  amiability,  and  went  in.  Wish  now 
I  had  n't  been  such  a  modest  violet.  Ah  there ! 
Just  missed  those  heavy  weights.  I  'm  getting 
along  all  right.  It  is  n't  such  a  bore  as  I  expected. 
You  must  look  alive,  and  dodge,  and  it  gives  you 
something  to  think  of." 

This  naive  tribute  to  the  pleasures  of  the  dance 
brought  a  smile  to  Marguerite's  lips.  "I  hope 
you  have  several  numbers  with  me  then,  at  least," 
she  said. 

"Only  one  more.     The  last  one." 

"Fritz!  Why,  Fritz,  how  unkind!  "  She  spoke 
with  feeling. 

"It 's  just  the  violet  business  again,"  he  replied, 
troubled.  "Ormond  said  I  could  have  two,  and  I 
took  them.  I  wish  now  I  had  spoken  a  word  for 
myself.  The  next  time,  Rita  —  Look  out,"  but 
the  threatening  couple  circled  harmlessly  by. 

The  next  time !  Marguerite  groaned  in  spirit ; 
but  she  would  not  look  forward. 

Too  soon  came  the  slight  acceleration  in  the 
music  which  preluded  the  close  of  the  dance. 

Fritz  did  not  guess  the  significance  of  the  pres- 
sure which  Marguerite  gave  his  hand  as  the  last 
chord  sounded.  He  found  her  a  seat  and  fanned 
her,  justly  proud  of  the  way  he  had  acquitted 
himself.  Taking  up  her  card,  he  ran  his  eye  over 
its  contents. 

"Well,  you  won't  have  a  chance  to  miss  me," 
he  remarked  at  last.  "Ormond  is  next,  and  here 
he  comes  now.  I  can  watch  your  good  time  even 


202  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

if  I  'm  not  in  it.  The  only  thing  left  for  me  to 
do  is  to  bid  you  a  long  farewell.  See  here,  Or- 
mond,  I  wasn't  very  bright  to  let  you  cut  me  off 
with  a  couple  of  my  sister's  dances." 

"It  will  teach  you  to  be  more  wide-awake  next 
time,"  responded  Gilbert  cheerfully.  "However, 
I  think  I  treated  you  magnanimously.  You  can't 
expect  to  see  much  of  Miss  Laird  this  evening. 
There  are  plenty  of  other  fellows'  sisters  here." 

Marguerite  was  borne  off  with  one  yearning 
backward  glance  at  Fritz,  who  stood  and  looked 
on  admiringly  as  she  and  Gilbert  glided  in  among 
the  dancers. 

"I  wonder  if  I  went  as  well  as  that,"  he 
thought.  "No,  I  couldn't  be  as  indifferent  to 
rocks  ahead  as  Ormond.  Wonder  how  he  does 
it?  Rita  can  dance,  for  a  fact." 

A  smart  bump  and  an  injured  glance  from  the 
couple  who  had  encountered  him  reminded  Fritz 
that  he  was  cumbering  the  ground,  and  he  with- 
drew to  safer  quarters. 

Gilbert's  bright  friendliness  caused  Marguerite 
to  feel  pleasantly  protected  still. 

"I  shall  live  on  the  anticipation  of  our  next," 
he  said,  when  the  dance  was  finished  and  he  was 
wielding  her  fan.  "If  I  had  known  all  I  do  now, 
Miss  Laird,  it  would  n't  have  been  safe  to  let  me 
fill  your  card.  Let  me  see,  where  do  I  come?" 
He  lifted  the  dangling  pasteboard  and  examined 
it.  "McKnight  is  next,  and  the  mischief  of  it  is 
McKnight  dances  like  a  breeze.  I  don't  think  it 


THE   SPELL    OF   THE    WALTZ.  203 

is  according  to  the  fitness  of  things  for  a  sawbones 
to  dance  as  well  as  he  does.  He  will  make  you 
forget  all  about  me." 

"I  enjoyed  that  very  much,"  replied  Margue- 
rite, almost  as  loth  to  part  with  this  frank  flatterer 
as  she  had  been  with  Fritz.  Gilbert's  eyes  nar- 
rowed and  twinkled  something  like  Katherine's 
when  he  laughed,  and  she  liked  him. 

"Then  keep  your  memory  green  for  me.  Here 
comes  McKnight,  bad  cess  to  him.  Are  n't  you 
a  little  previous,  Jasper?  "  asked  Gilbert,  looking 
determined  not  to  yield  his  position. 

Dr.  McKnight  smiled.  "Your  mother  wishes 
to  know  if  she  can  speak  to  you  a  moment  before 
the  next  dance." 

There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  go,  so  Gilbert 
reluctantly  bowed  himself  away,  and  the  doctor 
took  the  seat  he  had  vacated. 

"Aunt  Edna  wanted  me  to  tell  you  that  the 
last  hand  has  been  shaken,  and  that  after  this  she 
can  pursue  her  pleasant  duties  as  chaperon.  Do 
you  see  where  she  has  taken  her  place?  " 

"And  I  can  go  to  her  between  the  dances?" 
said  Marguerite  eagerly. 

"Yes,  but  pray  don't  look  as  if  that  were  a 
more  agreeable  prospect  than  the  dances  them- 
selves." 

The  girl  just  glanced  at  the  speaker.  He  was 
the  Wise  Woman's  nephew,  but  he  was  also 
Madeline  Ormond's  admirer,  perhaps  her  lover. 

"I  believe  you  are  one  of  the  three  people  in 


204  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

this  hall  to-night  who  understand  my  position," 
she  said  low  and  briefly.  "I  suppose  you  do  not 
expect  more  of  me  than  that  I  should  seem  to 
enjoy  myself." 

Dr.  McKnight,  conscious  of  having  carefully 
and  generously  performed  his  part,  had  been  feel- 
ing on  very  comfortable  terms  with  himself  and 
this  handsome  girl.  Her  words  surprised  him 
unpleasantly. 

"I  don't  see  why  not,"  he  answered.  "No 
debutante  whom  I  can  remember  has  made  as 
much  of  a  sensation  in  Montaigne  as  you  have 
to-night." 

"  Do  you  think  I  am  a  child  to  be  pleased  with 
an  ambiguous  speech  like  that?  "  she  flashed  out. 
"You  are  ingenious,  but  you  are  taking  useless 
trouble."  Suddenly  her  cold,  haughty  look  was 
lost  in  a  brave  smile.  "Pardon  me.  I  did  not 
mean  to  treat  you  to  heroics.  I  shall  not  soon 
forget  your  kindness  to  my  brother  to-night.  For 
him  I  am  sure  the  Athletic  Club  ball  is  a  grand 
success.  He  was  much  pleased  to  find  how  well 
he  could  dance  with  me.  The  floor  and  music  are 
inspiring." 

"I  am  glad  they  please  you,"  replied  Jasper, 
almost  diffidently.  "I  hope  they  may  betray 
you  into  actual  enjoyment  before  the  evening  is 
over." 

"I  am  in  a  new  element,  and  I  dread  strangers," 
she  said  swiftly.  "You,  with  whom  in  my  life  I 
may  have  exchanged  half  a  dozen  words,  seem 


THE   SPELL    OF   THE    WALTZ.  205 

comparatively  an  old  friend.  Does  not  that  tell 
the  story?  But  our  dance  will  soon  be  over." 
Her  little  laugh  had  a  note  of  bitterness.  "Is  it 
any  wonder  I  go  shuddering  into  the  cold-water 
bath?  " 

Dr.  McKnight's  pulses  moved  faster.  This 
queenly  young  creature,  writhing  in  what  to  her 
pride  was  a  false  position,  relied  if  ever  so  slightly 
upon  him  for  support.  He  understood  enough  to 
perceive  that  she  was  at  bay. 

"After  all,"  he  said  lightly,  "you  can  fancy 
yourself  at  a  college  ball.  There  it  is  the  custom 
for  girls  to  dance  with  a  lot  of  men  they  never 
saw  before.  You  will  find  it  not  so  bad,  I  pro- 
phesy. Nevertheless,  I  thank  you  for  counting 
me  out  of  the  dreaded  list.  There  is  the  music. 
Shall  we  begin  before  the  floor  is  crowded?" 

Many  were  the  eyes  that  followed  this  couple  as 
they  glided  forth  in  the  waltz.  All  Marguerite's 
love  of  this  poetry  of  motion  rose  in  a  tide  which 
temporarily  submerged  her  fears  as  she  was  lightly, 
firmly  guided  hither  and  thither  in  movements 
which  naturally  fitted  her  own. 

For  Jasper,  he  felt  a  certain  exultation  in  lead- 
ing this  girl  whose  look  a  few  moments  ago  had 
seemed  to  spurn  him.  It  was  in  the  nature  of  a 
triumph  to  find  her  so  flexible  and  responsive  to 
his  guiding  hand.  Until  the  last  note  of  the 
music,  they  floated  on  and  on,  and  regret  was  in 
both  their  hearts  when  the  clatter  of  voices  super- 
seded the  rhythmic  strains. 


206  THE    WISE    WO  MAX. 

"That  was  perfect.  Forgive  me  if  I  have  tired 
you,"  he  said. 

She  met  his  look  frankly.  "It  rested  me,"  she 
answered. 

He  took  her  to  the  seat  Miss  McKnight  had 
reserved  beside  her. 

That  lady  looked  up  with  her  piercing  gaze. 
"You  are  a  pretty  doctor,  Jasper.  Don't  you 
know  plenty  of  children  have  died  of  skipping  the 
rope?  I  am  sure  it  is  quite  possible  to  die  of 
dancing.  You  were  both  courting  heart  disease 
that  time,  I  am  sure  of  it." 

Jasper  laughed.  "Where  are  those  fine  theo- 
ries you  bestowed  on  me  lately  at  the  office? 
What  do  you  mean  by  putting  such  pictures  into 
our  fearless  minds?  " 

"You  are  a  perfect  success,  my  dear,"  whis- 
pered Miss  McKnight,  pressing  Marguerite's  hand 
as  the  latter  sank  into  the  place  beside  her.  "The 
women  are  all  spiteful,  and  the  men  are  enthusi- 
astic." 

The  girl  looked  up,  distressed.  "No,  no,  I 
didn't  mean  anything  that  should  trouble  you. 
They  are  just  spiteful  enough  to  showwhich  way 
the  wind  blows.  If  they  were  patronizing  and 
kindly,  we  should  have  to  up  and  take  another." 

"I  '11  never  take  '  another,'  "  thought  Margue- 
rite, with  vigorous  protest;  but,  after  all,  the 
evening  ended  better  than  it  had  begun. 

Jasper,  after  a  few  minutes'  desultory  talk, 
picked  up  her  card.  "Allington  is  the  next  lucky 


THE   SPELL    OF   THE    WALTZ.  207 

man,"  he  said.  "I  will  let  him  know  where  you 
are." 

Marguerite's  heart  sank  within  her  as  Dr.  Mc- 
Knight  turned  away;  but  presently  he  returned 
with  her  partner,  whose  quiet,  courteous  manners 
soon  calmed  her  shrinking. 

No  healthy  girl  could  have  failed  to  yield  to  the 
pleasant  exhilaration  of  the  novel  evening.  After 
each  dance  she  was  restored  to  her  chaperon,  who 
received  her  with  gracious  attention  as  something 
precious.  Each  partner,  before  taking  leave  of 
her,  brought  and  presented  his  successor,  and  the 
Wise  Woman  had  an  appropriate  word  for  every 
one. 

No  wonder  that  by  the  time  Fritz  came  to  claim 
the  last  dance,  he  found  a  more  lively  companion 
than  the  one  with  whom  he  had  enjoyed  the  first. 

He  looked  into  his  sister's  sparkling  eyes  with 
approval. 

"You  've  had  a  gay  time,  haven't  you,  Rita?  " 

Marguerite  assented ;  but  the  next  day  she  kept 
her  bed.  Every  bone  in  her  body  ached,  she 
admitted  to  Fritz,  and  he  said  she  had  danced  too 
much. 

She  accepted  his  diagnosis  in  silence,  but  she 
knew  that  the  reaction  she  was  suffering  was  not 
from  any  physical  strain. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

AFTERTHOUGHTS. 

"THERE  is  a  point,  Madeline,  beyond  which  we 
should  be  in  danger  of  making  ourselves  ridicu- 
lous. Remember  that,"  said  Mrs.  Ormond. 

They  two  were  sitting  alone  at  breakfast  the 
morning  after  the  ball.  Katherine  and  Gilbert 
had  taken  an  earlier  meal  in  a  most  congenial 
and  sympathetic  frame  of  mind,  enjoying  their 
unhoped-for  solitude  a  deux  with  the  relish  of  a 
pair  of  successful  conspirators. 

"I  think  there  is  little  danger  of  our  being 
ridiculous,"  returned  Madeline.  She  had  the  pale, 
disillusioned  appearance  which  follows  upon  late 
and  unsatisfactory  hours. 

"  What  a  surprising  and  unsophisticated  thing 
that  was  for  Edna  McKnight  to  do,"  went  on 
Mrs.  Ormond.  "A  strange  freak  to  characterize 
her  reappearance  in  society.  Really,  it  suggests 
that  very  rough  axiom  that  there  is  no  fool  like 
an  old  fool." 

"How  little  you  read  her,  mother,"  responded 
Madeline.  "She  never  deserved  better  her  title 
of  Wise  Woman  than  she  did  last  night.  Of 
course  her  effort  might  fail,  may  still  fail;  but 


AFTERTHOUGHTS,  209 

the  boldness  of  the  stroke  may  capture  the  success 
she  wishes  for  her  protegee,  and  no  step  less  ex- 
treme would  have  accomplished  it." 

"But  why  should  Miss  McKnight  take  so  much 
trouble  —  lay  herself  liable  to  criticism  or  ridi- 
cule? I  am  genuinely  puzzled." 

"What  does  she  care  for  either  criticism  or 
ridicule?"  rejoined  Madeline.  "She  cares  no- 
thing for  society.  She  has  nothing  to  lose." 

"Jasper  has,  then.  Now  what  do  you  think, 
between  ourselves,  Jasper's  attitude  is  toward  his 
aunt's  proceeding?  Of  course  I  saw  that  he  co- 
operated with  her  to  the  extent  of  introducing 
Tom  Sheldon  "- 

"Fritz  Sheldon,  please,"  interrupted  the  other, 
with  a  small,  scornful  smile.  "We  knew  Tom 
Sheldon  the  chrysalis.  The  stately  moth  is  called 
Fritz." 

"  I  saw  him  singeing  his  wings  at  your  candle, 
my  dear;  but  you  did  n't  dance  with  him.  I  am 
afraid  you  snubbed  that  aspiring  individual." 

"Not  at  all,"  returned  the  girl  languidly,  her 
color  slowly  rising. 

"I  was  going  to  say  that  it  isn't  the  part  of 
wisdom  to  go  to  either  extreme,  and  I  hope  you 
are  not  going  to  fall  into  error  on  one  side  while 
Katherine  and  Gilbert  err  in  the  opposite  direc- 
tion ;  for  we  might  as  well  face  the  fact  that  Gil- 
bert has,  as  you  say,  enrolled  himself  with  Kath- 
erine under  the  Wise  Woman's  banner.  Now, 
dear,  I  can  see,"  Mrs.  Ormond's  voice  took  on  a 


210  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

coaxing  tone,  "that  you  are  making  yourself  un- 
happy over  this  matter,  and  I  must  confess,  since 
we  are  alone,  that  this  fact  puzzles  me,  too. 
What  is  it  to  you  if  Edna  McKnight  succeeds  in 
placing  her  new  favorites?  You  are  like  her  in 
one  respect.  You  cannot  lose  anything.  Your 
position  is  secure." 

Madeline  did  not  respond  at  once.  Since  it 
was  so  hard  to  admit  it  to  herself,  she  could  not 
say  to  her  doting  mother  that  the  atmosphere  of 
last  night's  ball-room  had  been  tangibly  inimical 
to  her  girlish  sovereignty.  Fritz  Sheldon  had 
humbled  her  pride,  she  did  not  dream  how  uncon- 
sciously. Each  one  of  her  partners  had  sung 
Marguerite's  praises  with  more  or  less  excitement. 
The  stranger's  unheralded  charms  and  her  grace- 
ful dancing  had  manifestly  captured  the  male 
element  in  Montaigne  society,  and  to  Madeline  it 
was  small  comfort  to  recollect  how  little  that  made 
for  Miss  Laird's  permanent  social  success.  It 
was  enough  bitterness  that  the  milliner  had  met 
her  on  her  own  ground,  and  borne  away  from 
her  the  palm  as  belle  of  the  evening.  Mrs.  Or- 
mond's  fond  eyes  had  not  perceived  this  fact,  for 
Madeline  had  been,  as  usual,  always  on  the  floor 
and  well  attended,  but  the  girl  herself  knew  it, 
and  suffered  throughout  her  vanity -bound  nature. 
Nothing  less  than  supremacy  satisfied  her. 

"I  am  too  tired  to  care  to  talk  about  it,  mo- 
ther," she  answered. 

Mrs.  Ormond  regarded  the  feverish  lips  with 


AFTERTHOUGHTS.  211 

some  anxiety.  "You  must  sleep  this  afternoon, 
if  possible,"  she  said.  "I  detest  this  turning 
night  into  day.  Ten  o'clock  is  too  late  to  begin 
dancing.  In  a  little  place  like  Montaigne,  we 
ought  to  be  able  to  regulate  these  things.  You 
look  as  if  you  would  be  a  subject  for  a  visit  from 
Dr.  McKnight,  if  we  are  not  careful." 

"A  professional  visit?"  asked  Madeline,  her 
eyebrows  raised.  "Thank  you.  Do  you  suppose 
I  would  put  out  my  tongue  at  Jasper?" 

Her  mother  looked  away  from  the  quizzical 
eyes.  "I  don't  know  who  should  help  him  along, 
if  not  his  friends,"  she  said. 

Madeline  smiled  scoffingly.  "You  are  philan- 
thropic, I  know,  but  I  think  we  needn't  feel 
called  upon  to  help  drive  the  wolf  from  Jasper's 
door.  There  are  a  number  of  other  women  who 
are  doing  it.  I  draw  the  line  at  that." 

"I  could  not  avoid  his  care  of  Katherine,"  said 
Mrs.  Ormond  defensively. 

"I  know  you  couldn't,  but  acute  illnesses  are 
different.  However,  I  'm  not  going  to  need  any 
physician,  so  do  not  let  us  discuss  it.  I  could 
quarrel  with  my  best  friend  this  morning." 

"You  haven't  answered  my  question  how  Jas- 
per stands  disposed  toward  his  aunt's  perform- 
ance." 

Madeline  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "How  can 
I  tell?  " 

"  You  can  tell  what  he  said  about  it,  I  suppose." 

Mrs.  Ormond  spoke  with  some  asperity.     She 


212  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

was  tired,  too,  and  this  was  the  branch  of  the 
subject  in  which  she  felt  most  interest. 

Madeline  pushed  her  chair  back  from  the  table. 
"During  the  first  dance  of  the  evening  he  spoke 
of  Miss  Laird,  said  she  had  a  good  deal  of  style, 
and  that  he  hoped  for  her  sake  she  was  accustomed 
to  dancing." 

"Yes.     Well?" 

"The  next  time  I  met  him  the  evening  was  half 
over.  He  did  not  mention  the  milliner."  The 
girl  rose  from  the  table.  "If  you  can  make  any- 
thing of  that,  you  are  welcome  to." 

Madeline  herself  had  made  enough  of  it  to  add 
several  dark  shades  to  the  evening's  dissatisfac- 
tion. 

"They  went  well  together.  I  watched  them," 
said  Mrs.  Ormond  musingly,  "but  every  girl 
appears  at  her  best  when  she  is  dancing  with  Jas- 
per. I  suppose  he  knows  how  to  adapt  himself. 
That  Sheldon  got  along  very  well.  I  wondered 
why  he  did  n't  dance  more.  He  "  — 

"Lazy  folks,  lazy  folks,"  exclaimed  Katherine, 
coming  into  the  room  and  limping  ostentatiously 
around  the  table  to  her  mother  for  the  purpose  of 
implanting  a  hearty  kiss  on  her  cheek. 

"Katherine  Ormond,  it  was  too  much  for  your 
foot!  "  ejaculated  the  latter.  "Now  you  listen  to 
me :  you  will  wear  an  elastic  stocking  after  this. 
Don't  say  one  word  " 

"Mother,  I  can  glide  like  a  swan,  if  I  want  to. 
It  is  only  in  the  sweet,  unrestraining  influence  of 


AFTERTHOUGHTS.  213 

home  that  I  go  like  the  swan  on  land.  My  ankle 
is  the  least  bit  weak  this  morning." 

"It  was  all  wrong,  your  dancing  those  two 
numbers  in  succession  with  that  big  Sheldon.  I 
frowned  at  you;  you  must  have  seen  me." 

"I  did  see  you,  honey,  and  it  spoiled  your 
beauty  so,  I  would  n't  call  Mr.  Sheldon's  atten- 
tion to  it;  and  I  went  on  dancing  as  the  lesser 
evil.  It  didn't  tire  my  ankle  any  more  because 
he  was  big,  you  know,  dear,  so  long  as  he  didn't 
step  on  me,  and  really  he  dances  well." 

"Oh,  you  would  dance  with  a  porpoise,  and 
think  he  was  graceful,  if  he  only  had  flopped  out 
of  the  sea  at  Pokonet ! ' ' 

"Mother!"  exclaimed  the  girl,  in  a  sad,  re- 
proachful tone  which  her  eyes  belied.  "I  leave 
it  to  Madeline  if  Mr.  Sheldon  did  n't  cover  him- 
self with  glory." 

Madeline  lifted  a  languid  hand  and  patted  a 
long-drawn  yawn.  "I  didn't  watch  him,"  she 
answered ;  and  that  was  the  first  fib  she  had  told 
that  morning. 

Mrs.  Ormond  regarded  Katherine.  "The  next 
thing  we  have  to  look  for  is  to  see  whether,  after 
all  this,  Miss  Laird  is  received  in  Montaigne  on  a 
social  basis." 

"Yes.  Tell  me,  mother,"  said  Katherine,  with 
unexpected  seriousness,  "which  result  of  the  Wise 
Woman's  kindness  would  please  you  best?  " 

"What  do  you  mean?"  hesitated  Mrs.  Ormond 
lamely,  with  a  glance  toward  Madeline,  who  stood 
leaning  on  a  chair-back. 


214  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"I  mean  to  find  out  whether  you  would  be  glad 
if  none  of  our  set  called  upon  her,  or  invited  her 
and  Mr.  Sheldon  to  their  homes." 

Mrs.  Ormond's  lips  parted,  but  no  sound  issued. 
She  cast  a  second  glance  at  her  younger  daughter, 
whose  face  was  inscrutable  in  its  weariness. 

"Why  do  you  wish  to  know?"  asked  the  mo- 
ther at  last,  turning  upon  Katherine  a  look  digni- 
fiedly  defiant. 

"For  several  reasons.  One  is  that  Gilbert  is 
going  to  call  upon  them,  and  I  should  like  to  go 
with  him." 

"Oh,  Gilbert  is  going?" 

"Yes."  The  ghost  of  a  smile  played  about 
Katherine's  lips.  "How  much  longer  will  it  be 
necessary  to  wait  to  find  out  what  other  people 
are  going  to  do?  Is  Miss  McKnight's  public  seal 
of  approval  sufficient  to  make  you  willing  that  I 
should  follow  my  inclination?  " 

"I  don't  know  that  it  is  such  a  serious  matter," 
said  Mrs.  Ormond,  a  trifle  ashamed. 

"No,  "  returned  Katherine.  "The  only  phase 
of  the  affair  which  might  become  serious  is  the 
humorous  side  of  it.  Miss  McKnight  says  Miss 
Laird  is  charming.  Mr.  Ben  Allington  said  to 
rne  last  night  that  Miss  Laird  was  charming,  '  an 
acquisition  to  our  circle  —  ah !  '  Katherine  could 
no  more  help  quoting  this  important  authority 
with  his  own  impressive  tone  and  manner  than  she 
could  help  breathing. 

"Did  Ben  Allington  say  that?  " 


AFTERTHOUGHTS.  215 

"Yes.  Now,  if  we  are  not  with  the  tide  as  it 
turns,  we  shall  be  laughed  at;  for  it  is  rumored 
that  Gilbert  and  Mr.  Sheldon  were  boy  friends, 
and  that  we  have  spent  our  summers  with  their 
relatives.  People  will  say  we  are  afraid,  or  snob- 
bish, or  think  some  other  true  and  unpleasant 
things  about  us." 

"You  know  I  said  so,  Madeline,"  remarked 
Mrs.  Ormond,  quick  to  take  alarm. 

"Madeline  and  I  are  rather  popular,  and  Miss 
Laird  is  handsome.  Just  because  of  that  it  would 
be  policy,  good  policy,  for  us  to  be  among  the  first 
to  show  her  some  little  attention.  Yes,  you  think 
I  have  an  axe  to  grind,  of  course,  Madeline. 
Take  your  own  way,  but  remember  my  prophecy 
when  some  day  the  girls  look  at  you  curiously, 
and  wonder  how  Madeline  Ormond  takes  it." 

Katherine  herself  had  not  suspected  how  straight 
this  shaft  would  fly  home.  She  might  have  seen 
her  sister  wince  had  she  looked,  but,  dropping  her 
serious  manner,  she  rose.  "Well,  I  must  go.  I 
have  my  Carlyle  to  read  up.  Don't  criticise  my 
gait.  Remember  the  swan  is  an  amphibious  crea- 
ture," and  she  limped  from  the  room,  leaving 
Madeline  with  new  food  for  reflection. 

Second  sight  would  have  shown  the  latter  a 
prostrate  foe.  Marguerite  lay  in  bed  that  morn- 
ing, restlessly  going  over  in  her  mind  the  events 
of  the  night  before.  She  had  never  felt  such 
fatigue  as  now  possessed  her,  but  her  mind  was 
especially  alert,  and  showed  her  as  in  a  magic 


216  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

mirror  every  look,  smile,  and  word  which  had 
evidenced  the  curiosity,  friendship,  hauteur,  antag- 
onism, or  admiration  shown  her  at  the  ball.  Her 
thoughts  dwelt  with  no  satisfaction  on  the  courtesy 
and  compliment  showered  upon  her  by  her  part- 
ners. That  had  been  exhilarating  for  the  moment, 
but  now  she  brushed  it  aside  as  immaterial.  Con- 
siderations of  the  attitude  of  her  own  sex  absorbed 
her. 

The  morning  had  passed,  and  afternoon  was 
waning  when  Lucia  came  to  Marguerite's  room 
and  announced  that  Miss  McKnight  was  in  the 
parlor. 

"  I  told  her  you  were  in  bed,  and  she  said  she 
would  be  glad  if  you  would  allow  her  to  come 
and  see  you  a  minute." 

"Certainly  she  can  come  in,"  said  Marguerite, 
after  a  moment's  hesitation;  and  presently  the 
visitor  made  her  appearance. 

She  came  up  to  the  bed,  and,  taking  the  girl's 
hand  between  her  gloved  ones,  looked  down  at  her 
in  smiling  silence. 

"I  am  very  much  ashamed,"  said  Marguerite, 
returning  her  gaze. 

"Am  I?  That  is  the  question.  Is  a  visit  an 
intrusion?" 

"Not  from  you,  dear  Wise  Woman.  I  like 
that  name  for  you.  I  think  last  night  may  have 
been  the  exception  in  your  conduct  that  proves 
the  rule,  but  all  the  same  it  bolsters  me  up  and 
heals  my  snubs  to  say  to  myself,  '  the  Wise 
Woman  ordered  it. ' ' 


AFTERTHOUGHTS.  217 

"Then  I  will  sit  down,"  said  Miss  McKnight, 
drawing  a  chair  near  the  bed,  and  slipping  back 
her  furs ;  "  but  it  is  news  to  me  that  you  have  any 
snubs  to  heal."  She  regarded  the  girl  with  a 
pleasantly  argumentative  expression. 

Marguerite  moved  in  a  little  reminiscent  shud- 
der. "  I  admit  that  I  was  Argus-eyed,  and  on  the 
watch  for  cold  looks  and  shades  of  tone." 

Miss  McKnight's  look  grew  kinder,  and  her 
low  laugh  had  a  mirthful  sound  which  made  her 
companion's  color  rise.  "You  had  a  chip  on  that 
lovely  shoulder  of  yours,  my  dear.  A  thicker- 
skinned  girl  would  probably  have  felt  nothing 
disagreeable." 

Marguerite  bit  her  lip,  and  then  she  too  laughed. 
It  is  a  short  step  from  the  tragic  to  the  comic, 
and  with  her  laughter,  tears  gathered  in  the  girl's 
eyes.  "There  is  something  so  ridiculous  in  my 
lying  here  completely  fagged  out  by  nervous  ten- 
sion in  such  a  cause.  If  I  were  given  to  that  sort 
of  thing,  I  could  indulge  in  a  fit  of  hysterics  over 
the  absurdity  of  it  all."  She  wiped  her  eyes. 

"You  are  a  plucky  creature,  and  I  am  proud 
of  you,"  said  Miss  McKnight.  "How  did  Fritz 
enjoy  himself?" 

"Very  much,  apparently.  However,  his  princi- 
pal pleasure  was  in  the  thought  of  giving  me  such 
a  good  tune."  Marguerite  threw  a  glance  at  her 
visitor,  and  again  wiped  away  a  few  tears.  "Oh, 
don't  laugh  at  me,  please;"  and  then  she  broke 
down  and  wept  a  little,  quietly,  into  her  handker- 
chief. 


218  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"That 's  right,"  said  the  Wise  Woman,  patting 
her  soothingly.  "Let  those  tired  nerves  -cry 
awhile.  It  is  a  poor  rule  that  won't  work  both 
ways,  and  it  is  as  invigorating  sometimes  to  let 
salt  water  out  as  it  is  at  other  times  to  rub  it  in. 
I  am  sorry  for  you,  and  yet  I  'm  glad,  too.  The 
situation  is  entirely  redeemed  from  absurdity  by 
your  aim  in  this  matter,  and  if  last  night's  expe- 
riences do  not  appear  to  me  in  the  same  light  that 
they  do  to  you,  it  is  not  because  I  cannot  look  at 
them  from  your  point  of  view.  Fashionable  so- 
ciety takes  itself  and  its  little  games  so  seriously 
that  I  cannot  help  being  amused  by  it.  In  chil- 
dren's plays,  it  is  a  dreadful  slight  upon  a  child 
if  he  is  never  called  upon  to  be  '  it. '  So  society 
people  jostle  each  other,  each  eager  for  his  turn 
to  be  it,  and  I  have  reached  the  age  where,  as  a 
spectator  of  the  game,  I  do  not  miss  any  of  its 
entertaining  points.  I  was  even  called  upon  to 
be  '  it '  myself  last  night,  and  so  I  offered  to  my 
acquaintances  a  young  aspirant  for  society  honors 
who  played  her  part  so  well  that  she  has  nothing 
to  regret,  whether  she  is  included  in  future  games 
or  not.  Marguerite,"  the  Wise  Woman's  voice 
took  on  an  impressive  tone,  "  I  am  well  satisfied ; 
very  well.  I  think  you  may  put  aside  all  fears  of 
hampering  your  brother,  and  it  would  not  surprise 
me  in  the  least  if  you  helped  him,  —  yes,  in  this 
very  line." 

Marguerite  had  dropped  her  handkerchief,  and 
was  regarding  her  visitor  wistfully.  "If  I  do," 


AFTERTHOUGHTS.  219 

she  answered,  "  I  shall  owe  it  to  you  entirely,  and 
I  can  never  thank  you;  that  is  the  worst  of  it." 

Miss  McKnight's  carriage  stopped  at  the  Or- 
monds'  on  her  way  home. 

She  found  mother  and  daughters  in  their  sitting- 
room,  working  and  reading. 

"I  thought  I  would  stop  and  see  how  the  ankle 
stood  it,"  she  said,  as  the  three  cordially  greeted 
her. 

"Jasper  warned  her,"  returned  Mrs.  Ormond 
sorrowfully,  "but  she  would  dance  too  much!  " 

"Oh,  a  day  or  two's  rest  and  some  arnica  will 
make  me  all  right  again,"  continued  Katherine. 
"How  nice  you  were  to  come  and  talk  it  over. 
Let  me  take  your  cloak.  Wasn't  it  a  success?" 

"I  believe  it  was,"  replied  Miss  McKnight, 
accepting  the  chair  Katherine  drew  forward.  "I 
shall  sympathize  with  notables  after  this,  though. 
When  I  had  shaken  hands  for  an  hour,  I  could 
have  favored  the  Indians'  mode  of  salutation; 
rubbing  noses,  isn't  it?" 

"I  should  think  the  girls  who  received,  and 
then  danced,  would  be  tired  to  death  to-day," 
remarked  Madeline. 

"I  am  sure  one  of  them  is,"  returned  the  vis- 
itor promptly.  "I  have  just  left  Miss  Laird.  I 
thought  the  least  I  could  do  was  to  go  and  see  if 
she  had  become  crippled  in  my  service." 

"How  was  she?"  asked  Madeline,  striving  to 
keep  all  constraint  out  of  her  voice. 

"Used  up."     Miss  McKnight  smiled. 


220  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"I  suppose  so,"  returned  Madeline.  "Her 
work  has  always  kept  her  sitting." 

"I  hope  it  will  keep  her  sitting  a  little,  still," 
returned  the  other  cheerily.  "As  I  said,  I  do 
not  propose  to  let  her  off." 

"She  will  find  it  difficult,"  said  Madeline,  "to 
go  into  society  and  work  too." 

"What  an  idea,"  laughed  Katherine.  "Do  we 
sit  with  our  hands  folded  all  the  time  we  are  at 
home?" 

"I  think  if  she  keeps  enough  going  for  fancy 
work  she  can  accomplish  it,"  said  Miss  McKnight, 
with  such  natural  good-humor  that  even  the  watch- 
ful Madeline  accepted  her  sincerity.  "However, 
I  am  well  aware  we  must  n't  count  upon  her.  That 
devoted  brother  of  hers  would  spread  a  carpet  of 
rose  leaves  for  her  to  walk  on,  if  he  thought  it 
would  add  to  her  happiness.  He  kept  rather 
quiet  last  night.  He  told  me  it  was  diffidence, 
but  that  he  should  not  err  again.  His  experience 
with  his  sister  and  Katherine  has  given  him  an 
exalted  idea  of  his  own  abilities.  Did  n't  you  like 
him,  Katherine?  "  turning  suddenly  toward  her 
favorite. 

"Yes.  He  is  the  sort  of  man  you  feel  from 
the  first  that  you  have  known  always.  He  does  n't 
make  conversation.  He  is  just  friendly  and  easy." 

"One  of  the  'real  folks.'  Yes.  He  hasn't 
any  littlenesses.  He  is  a  big,  manly  man,  with- 
out any  self -consciousness.  I  like  Fritz." 

Madeline  took  note  of  the  familiar  use  of  the 
name. 


AFTERTHOUGHTS.  221 

"I  wonder  if  he  can  play  cards,"  she  said  care- 
lessly. "I  am  considering  giving  a  progressive 
euchre  party,  and  I  thought  of  asking  Miss  Laird 
and  her  brother." 

Katherine's  eyes  grew  too  wide  to  twinkle. 
Mrs.  Ormond's  face  betrayed  relief  in  its  sur- 
prise, and  the  Wise  Woman's  chair  rocked  a  trifle 
faster. 

"No  doubt  they  can  both  play,"  she  said.  "A 
good  idea,  Madeline.  I  believe  I  will  give  a  card 
party  of  some  sort,  too ;  but  after  you  is  manners 
for  me." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

SPRINGTIME. 

THE  rain  was  slanting  landward,  and  miles  of 
breakers  were  driven  roaring  before  the  gale,  when 
Katherine  Ormond  next  saw  Pokonet. 

She  did  not  arrive  unexpectedly  this  time,  and 
Mr.  Hodgson  delivered  her  up  triumphantly  from 
his  covered  wagon  at  the  back  door  of  the  farm- 
house. The  front  door  was  not  opened  to  a 
searching  wind  like  this. 

"Here's  Kittiwake,  Ma,"  he  roared  genially, 
and  Mrs.  Hodgson  appeared. 

"Wasn't  it  a  shame  to  bring  the  horse  out 
such  a  day?"  exclaimed  the  girl.  "You  will 
change  my  name  to  Stormy  Petrel,  if  I  appear  to 
you  in  any  more  tempests.  I  didn't  know  the 
weather  was  going  to  behave  so.  It  is  totally 
different  in  New  York.  I  'in  too  wet  to  touch 
you,  Mrs.  Hodgson,  but  it  is  only  my  mackin- 
tosh." 

"Here,  drop  it  right  off  in  the  kitchen,  dear." 

"  I  feel  guilty  to  bring  Mr.  Hodgson  out  in  the 
storm,  and  make  him  so  much  trouble." 

"Well,  you  needn't,  child.  He'd  cheerfully 
go  through  it  a  dozen  times  for  a  visit  from  you." 


SPRINGTIME.  223 

"You  are  so  good  to  me,  both  of  you;  but  this 
time  it  isn't  pleasure,  you  know,  that  brings  me. 
Being  sent  on  business  makes  me  feel  very  impor- 
tant and  dutiful;  it  is  different  from  the  stolen 
fruit  sensation  I  had  last  time." 

Mrs.  Hodgson  conducted  her  guest  into  the 
living  -  room,  where  Mr.  Hodgson  soon  joined 
them.  The  cheerful  fire  in  the  open  stove  was  as 
grateful  on  this  spring  day  as  in  that  November 
when  Katherine  last  saw  it. 

"How's  the  winter  used  ye,  Kitty?"  asked 
the  old  man,  regarding  her  with  kindly  scrutiny. 
"Ye  look  a  little  grain  like  a  hot-house  posy, 
seems  like." 

"Yes,  I  begin  always  at  this  time  of  year  to 
need  being  put  out  to  grass." 

"That's  what  you  do  need,"  said  Mrs.  Hodg- 
son sympathetically,  "and  not  to  go  on  dissi- 
patin'  all  summer.  I  think  your  mother  ought  to 
give  you  your  way  this  year  and  let  us  have  you, 
just  like  old  times." 

Katherine  regarded  her  hostess  curiously,  and 
smiled.  "Mrs.  Hodgson,  I  wrote  you  that  I  was 
going  to  surprise  you,  and  I  am.  Are  you  feel- 
ing well  this  spring?  Do  say  you  are  particularly 
well,  you  and  Mr.  Hodgson  both !  " 

"We're  in  very  good  case,"  returned  Mrs. 
Hodgson,  reflecting  the  girl's  smile.  "Why?" 

"Because  I  am  coming  to  Pokonet  for  my  out- 
ing. I  'm  not  going  anywhere  else." 

"That's  clever,  that's  good,"  answered  both 


224  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

host  and  hostess  heartily;  "but  I  don't  see  what 
that 's  got  to  do  with  our  bein'  well,"  added  Mrs. 
Hodgson.  "If  I  wasn't  well,  I'd  want  you  all 
the  more,  Kitty." 

"But,"  answered  the  girl  impressively,  waving 
her  hand  toward  the  window,  "in  Pokonet  it 
never  rains  but  it  pours,  you  ought  to  know  that." 
Her  words  were  accompanied  by  the  crackling  of 
pelting  drops  on  the  pane.  "Almost  everybody 
else  in  Montaigne  wants  to  come,  too." 

"They  do,  hey?"  remarked  Mr.  Hodgson,  al- 
ways the  readier  of  speech  of  the  pair.  "Well, 
I  always  said  there  warn't  any  reason  why  Poko- 
net should  n't  be  's  fashionable  as  Southampton 
over  yonder.  We  've  got  a  better  beach  to-day. 
I  tell  ye  our  land  's  goin'  to  rise,  Ma,  and  we  '11 
give  Kittiwake  a  slice  off  the  south  end  there  for 
a  weddin'  present." 

"How  you  talk,  Pa!"  said  Mrs.  Hodgson. 
"Tell  us  what  you  mean,  Kitty." 

"I  will.  That  is  what  I  came  for.  Mother 
has  been  taking  all  sorts  of  liberties  with  your 
house;  but  as  she  has  done  it  only  in  her  mind,  I 
suppose  it  was  no  harm." 

"That's  it,  Kitty, — pleases  her,  and  don't 
hurt  us,  as  the  old  sayin'  is." 

"Wait  up,  Pa."  Mrs.  Hodgson  lifted  a  re- 
pressive hand. 

"First  of  all,"  began  Katherine,  "I  don't  know 
whether  Maguerite  Laird  has  written  you  that  we 
have  seen  a  good  deal  of  each  other  this  winter." 


SPRINGTIME.  225 

"Rita  don't  write  a  great  deal,  but  she  's  spoken 
of  you  a  number  of  times.  It  pleased  us  more  'n 
a  little  to  think  she  and  Tom  —  Fritz,  she  calls 
him  —  had  got  acquainted  with  you  and  your 
folks.  I  didn't  know,  not  till  you  'd  gone  home 
last  fall,  that  they  'd  moved  to  Montaigne.  Rita 
was  so  busy  she  never  wrote  to  us  for  weeks  to- 
gether." 

"No?  Well,  I  have  another  dear  friend  in 
Montaigne,  an  elderly  lady  by  the  name  of  Mc- 
Knight.  She  has  been  very  good  to  Marguerite." 

"Yes.     I  've  heard  tell  of  her." 

"She  heard  us  talking  one  day  about  Pokonet, 
and  I  —  perhaps  I  was  a  little  enthusiastic  telling 
Marguerite  more  than  she  knew  about  the  place, 
and  Miss  McKnight  said  this  was  just  the  sort  of 
resort  she  had  been  wishing  to  hear  of.  She  lives 
with  a  nephew  who  is  a  doctor,  and  she  wants  to 
find  some  place  near  New  York  where  they  can 
spend  their  vacation  together.  The  next  thing, 
I  told  mother  that  Miss  McKnight' s  heart  was 
set  on  coming  to  Pokonet,  and  then  she  began  to 
consider  that  we  had  better  come  too.  I  didn't 
discourage  her." 

"She  thinks  a  great  deal  of  this  Miss  Mc- 
Knight, I  suppose,  then." 

Katherine  looked  into  the  fire.  "Yes,  Miss 
McKnight 's  movements  are  quite  important  to 
her.  Now  you  see,  Mrs.  Hodgson,  how  we  have 
been  taking  liberties  with  your  house ;  apportion- 
ing the  rooms  to  these  people." 


226  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Did  ye  make  'em  go  'round?"  asked  the  old 
man,  much  interested. 

"Pretty  well.     It  required  some  management." 

"Too  much,  I  guess,  Kitty,"  said  Mrs.  Hodg- 
son. "Let 's  see.  There  's  your  mother  and  you 
and  Maidie  and  Gilly,  that 's  four.  Then  Miss 
McKnight  and  her  young  man  is  six,  and  Rita 
and  Tom  is  eight,  —  I  want  them  free  to  come ; 
and  Pa  and  I  are  ten." 

"Of  course  you  would  have  to  have  plenty  of 
help,"  said  Katherine,  "and  the  guests  would  not 
all  be  here  all  the  time.  I  am  probably  the  only 
one  you  would  never  get  rid  of." 

"We  could  n't  make  so  many  real  comfortable," 
returned  Mrs.  Hodgson.  "I  guess  I  could  find 
a  place  near  by  for  the  McKnights,  and  then 
manage  the  rest.  I  don't  know  but  I  'd  like  an 
old-time  summer,"  she  added  musingly. 

"I  hoped  you  would  feel  that  way,"  returned 
Katherine,  looking  relieved. 

"Tell  us  about  the  children,"  said  Mr.  Hodg- 
son, —  "about  Tom  and  Rita.  Tom  's  doin'  well, 
I  take  it." 

"Very.  It  would  delight  you  to  hear  how  well 
he  stands  with  the  proprietor  of  the  Works.  Mr. 
McKnight  is  the  brother  of  the  lady  we  were  talk- 
ing of.  As  for  Marguerite,  she  is  one  of  my  best 
friends." 

"Well  now,  I'm  glad,"  said  Mrs.  Hodgson, 
much  gratified.  "She  's  a  real  smart  girl.  I 
could  see  that  right  off.  She  wrote  me  she  was  n't 


SPRINGTIME.  227 

doin'  so  much  business  as  she  did  one  time  there; 
but  I  guess  Tom  don't  want  her  to  work  too 
hard." 

"He  doesn't  want  her  to  work  at  all;  but  she 
likes  to,  and  the  Montaigne  ladies  can't  bear  to 
give  up  her  taste  and  cleverness.  She  has  been 
going  out  a  good  deal,  and  that  makes  a  woman 
less  able  to  keep  up  a  business.  She  and  her 
brother  belong  to  the  same  whist  club  that  I  do, 
and  we  often  attend  the  same  social  festivities." 

"Yes?"  returned  Mrs.  Hodgson,  to  whom  this 
state  of  things  seemed  very  natural,  if  not  very 
desirable.  "I  hope  she  won't  go  too  much.  As 
you  say,  that  ain't  good  for  trade." 

Katherine  smiled  confidentially  at  the  fire. 
"No,  that  isn't  good  for  trade,"  she  answered. 

The  direction  in  which  events  had  shaped  them- 
selves was  as  pleasant  as  it  was  unexpected  to 
Katherine.  That  her  mother  and  Madeline  should 
come  to  take  a  docile  view  of  spending  another 
summer  in  the  quiet  surroundings  of  Pokonet  was 
something  she  would  have  considered  it  useless  to 
hope  for;  but  without  a  word  of  urging  on  her 
part,  the  wonder  had  come  about. 

"I  think  it  would  n't  be  a  bad  idea  to  go  again," 
Madeline  had  replied,  when  her  mother  first  made 
the  suggestion.  "It  isn't  as  if  we  should  be  tied 
there  for  the  whole  summer.  We  can  accept 
invitations  occasionally,  perhaps;  "  and  so  Kath- 
erine had  been  sent,  a  willing  messenger,  to  the 
Hodgsons',  to  make  arrangements.  She  was  re- 


228  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

ceived,  when  she  returned  to  Montaigne,  with  less 
indifference  than  on  the  occasion  of  her  last  home- 
coming. 

Mrs.  Ormond  and  Madeline  listened  with  some 
dissatisfaction  to  the  result  of  her  visit. 

"I  don't  think  you  managed  very  well,  Kath- 
erine.  According  to  my  plan,  there  was  plenty 
of  room  for  the  McKnights,"  said  Mrs.  Ormond. 

"Yes;  but  we  didn't  count  in  Marguerite  and 
Mr.  Sheldon,"  rejoined  the  girl. 

The  others  looked  blank. 

"I  didn't  know  they  were  going,"  said  Made- 
line. 

Mrs.  Ormond  gave  a  little  laugh.  "What  an 
extraordinary  talent  for  getting  in  our  way  those 
young  people  have  shown." 

"I  dare  say  Mr.  Sheldon  can't  have  very  much 
time  to  himself,"  said  Katherine,  "but  it  is  natu- 
ral that  the  Hodgsons  should  wish  to  keep  a  place 
open  for  them.  It  is  a  wonder  we  didn't  calcu- 
late clearly  on  that.  For  my  own  part,  I  don't 
think  I  used  my  brains  at  all.  We  were  going  to 
Pokonet,  and  prosaic  details,  such  as  sleeping  and 
eating,  didn't  trouble  me  much;  but  it  is  all  right, 
mother.  Mrs.  Hodgson  will  find  the  McKnights 
a  place  at  the  Tysons'  or  the  Berrys'.  What  is 
the  difference,  —  I  mean  for  people  who  don't 
know  and  love  the  Hodgsons  ?  " 

"I  suppose  it  will  have  to  do,"  returned  Mrs. 
Ormond. 

"I  will  go  and  see  the  Wise  Woman,  and  tell 
her  about  it,"  said  Katherine. 


SPRINGTIME.  229 

"No,  you  had  better  take  a  rest,"  objected  the 
mother. 

"I  am  never  too  tired  to  go  there,"  said  Kath- 
erine. 

"Never  mind.  I  prefer  to  go  this  time.  I 
will  take  Miss  McKnight  your  love,  and  tell  her 
all  about  it." 

Mrs.  Ormond  immediately  donned  her  outside 
garments  and  set  forth.  When  she  was  ushered 
into  the  Wise  Woman's  sanctum,  she  found  Miss 
Laird  with  her. 

"What  a  charming  day,"  said  the  visitor,  as 
she  greeted  them.  "The  tender  green  of  the  trees 
in  the  park,  and  the  bluebirds  and  robins,  make 
me  feel  that  summer  will  be  here  before  we  know 
it.  Ah,  Edna,  your  home  is  always  too  lovely  to 
leave." 

"Jersey  air  is  Jersey  air  even  in  the  park," 
rejoined  her  friend.  "When  the  mosquitoes  be- 
gin their  siege,  and  the  air  seems  to  percolate 
feebly  through  invisible  down  that  clings  about 
one's  head,  even  my  inertia  is  overcome.  And 
any  way,  I  have  the  Pokonet  fever,  and  must  find 
out  if  similar  similibus,  etc.,  will  work  in  this 
case.  When  do  you  expect  Katherine?" 

"  She  has  come ;  and  she  brings  tolerably  satis- 
factory word.  I  did  not  know  before,  Miss  Laird, 
that  you  and  your  brother  propose  spending  the 
summer  with  your  uncle." 

"Oh,  no  such  luck!"  answered  the  girl.  "Of 
course  Fritz  will  get  some  vacation." 


230  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"And  you  will  spend  it  there?" 

"Certainly.  Uncle  Silas  and  aunt  Althea  con- 
sider that  an  understood  thing." 

Mrs.  Ormond  regarded  her  a  moment  with  a 
conventionally  bland  expression,  and  then  turned 
to  Miss  McKriight. 

"For  that  reason,"  she  said,  "Katherine  found 
she  could  not  get  the  rooms  in  Mrs.  Hodgson's 
house  which  she  hoped  for,  for  you." 

"Oh,  that  must  n't  be!"  exclaimed  Marguerite 
in  a  different  tone.  "I  am  sure  we  can  make 
some  arrangement.  Fritz  and  I  can  go  early  or 
late  in  the  season.  We  mustn't  interfere  with 
you,  Miss  McKnight." 

"Don't  worry,  my  dear,"  returned  the  latter 
placidly.  "Aren't  there  some  neighbors  about 
this  charmed  Hodgson  house?  What  did  Kath- 
erine say?" 

"She  spoke  of  neighbors,"  returned  Mrs.  Or- 
mond reluctantly,  "but  if  Miss  Laird  thinks  she 
could  arrange  her  dates  —  Katherine 's  pleasure 
would  be  so  enhanced,  to  say  nothing  of  Made- 
line's and  my  own,  by  having  you  with  us." 

"We  can;  I  will  speak  to  Fritz,"  began  Mar- 
guerite eagerly. 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,  not  a  bit  of  it,"  said  Miss 
McKnight  quietly,  with  a  little  calming  gesture. 
"  Of  course  the  good  aunt  and  uncle  want  you  and 
your  brother  to  have  a  place  to  retreat  to.  You 
haven't  spent  a  summer  yet  in  Montaigne,  and 
you  don't  know  what  it  is  like.  Katherine  and 


SPRIXGTIHE.  231 

the  Hoclgsons  and  I  shall  succeed  in  making  some 
pleasant  plan,  I  am  sure." 

So  Mrs.  Ormond  failed  in  one  of  the  intentions 
of  her  visit,  for  Miss  McKnight  showed  herself 
immovably  set  against  supplanting  Marguerite 
and  Fritz;  but  she  had  succeeded  in  the  other, 
namely,  the  determination  to  discover  whether 
this  disappointment  would  cause  Miss  McKnight 
to  waver  in  her  plan  for  going  to  Pokonet.  Mrs. 
Ormond  did  not  intend  to  immure  herself  and 
Madeline  in  an  uncongenial  spot  to  no  purpose. 

She  sighed,  as  she  left  the  blossoming  park,  over 
the  obstinate  and  inconvenient  fact  of  the  exist- 
ence in  her  world  of  these  young  relatives  of  the 
Hodgsons.  Not  all  the  winter's  social  experience, 
in  which  they  had  held  a  modest  but  pleasant 
place,  had  succeeded  in  reconciling  her  to  them. 
Had  their  home  been  out  West,  down  South,  or 
in  the  East,  how  her  kindly  feelings  could  flow 
out  toward  them ! 

Marguerite's  intuition  was  too  keen  not  to  dis- 
cern Mrs.  Ormond's  real  attitude,  under  all  the 
suavity  with  which  that  lady  learned  to  treat  her 
when  their  paths  crossed.  Still,  the  girl  did  not 
allow  herself  to  attach  much  weight  to  the  circum- 
stance. She  took  the  liberty  privately  of  being 
amused  by  Mrs.  Ormond. 

"She  isn't  exactly  a  mother.  She  is  a  man- 
ager," she  said  once  to  Fritz,  and  he  gave  her 
some  careless  reply.  It  penetrated  to  his  con- 
sciousness occasionally  that  Mrs.  Ormond  seemed 


232  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

a  cold  sort  of  woman,  but  the  fact  had  no  personal 
bearing  for  him.  Neither  did  the  opposite  fact 
of  Madeline's  cordiality  affect  him  more  deeply. 
The  girls  in  Montaigne  were  very  pleasant,  the 
Ormonds  especially;  but  he  was  absorbed  this 
winter  in  his  work. 

Marguerite's  happiness  was  serene  in  these 
days.  She  often  made  hats  in  her  quiet  work- 
room, but  she  received  social  calls  in  her  pretty 
parlor,  and  was  smiled  upon.  The  Wise  Wo- 
man's strong  influence  was  constantly  backing 
her,  and  Katherine's  penchant  was  no  longer 
quarreled  with.  Gilbert  was  almost  as  frequent 
a  visitor  at  the  flat  as  his  sister,  and  terms  of 
pleasant  familiarity  soon  flourished  among  the  four 
young  people. 

Madeline  could  not  resist  an  occasional  sneer. 

"I  suppose  you  are  charmed  that  there  is  a 
prospect  that  your  most  cherished  friends  will  not 
have  to  be  parted  from  you  long  at  a  time  this 
summer,"  she  said  to  Katherine,  on  the  evening 
after  the  latter 's  return  from  Pokonet. 

"To  whom  do  you  refer,  sister?"  inquired  the 
other. 

"To  those  members  of  the  nobility  over  on 
Main  Street." 

"Don't  class  Sir  Thomas  Sheldon  second  under 
the  head  of  my  cherished  friends,"  said  Kather- 
ine. "He  is  an  insensible  machinist.  You  prac- 
ticed your  charms  upon  him  just  in  time,  Made- 
line." 


SPRINGTIME.  233 

The  latter  bridled  significantly.  With  fatuous 
vanity  her  imagination  returned  from  every  rebuff 
of  cold  facts  to  the  idea  that  her  fascinations  were 
still  potent  with  this  old  admirer.  She  told  her- 
self that  he  was  a  capital  actor,  and  that  painful 
experience  had  made  him  cautious.  That  was  all 
his  indifference  meant. 

"I  am  sure  he  is  quite  as  friendly  with  you  as 
is  necessary,"  answered  Madeline. 

"  Do  you  really  think  so  ?  Well,  perhaps  you 
are  right;  but  when  one  beams  upon  a  man  with 
gracious  advances  one  minute  and  withdraws  from 
him  in  cold  reserve  the  next,  regards  him  coyly 
from  behind  a  fan  or  chatters  at  him  like  a  mag- 
pie at  one  meeting,  then  maintains  a  demure  si- 
lence at  the  next,  it  is  n't  very  flattering  to  have 
each  of  these  attitudes  received  with  exactly  the 
same  benevolent  abstraction,  and  discover  that  he 
has  been  thinking  about  steam  pipes  all  the  time. 
No,  I  repel  the  insinuation  that  the  great  Fritz  is 
one  of  my  cherished  friends.  I  am  not  going  to 
do  all  the  cherishing !  " 

Madeline  regarded  the  speaker  half  wistfully. 
"I  think  you  have  the  happiest  disposition  I  ever 
knew,  Katherine.  If  a  man  really  treated  you  as 
you  describe,  you  wouldn't  mind  it." 

"If,  skeptic?  I  tell  you  he  does.  If  Mr. 
Sheldon  could  unscrew  my  ear  and  take  it  off  and 
tinker  it  and  make  it  hear  better,  then  put  it  back 
again,  he  would  take  some  interest  in  me.  As  it 
is,  I  am  an  unimportant  incident,  and  so  are  you, 


234  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

and  so  is  Betty,  and  so  are  all  the  rest  of  the 
girls." 

"Speak  for  yourself,"  said  Madeline  tartly. 
"I  don't  think  Mr.  Sheldon  ventures  to  regard 
me  as  an  incident." 

"Really?"  responded  Katherine,  with  curious 
interest.  "Doesn't  he  draw  queer  things  on 
paper,  things  with  —  with  valves,  and  show  them 
to  you?" 

"Indeed  he  doesn't!"  answered  Madeline 
loftily,  and  she  spoke  truly.  Fritz  never  made  de- 
mands upon  her  sympathy.  "You  certainly  have 
the  happiest  disposition  I  ever  knew,"  added  the 
girl  fretfully.  "I  believe,  after  all,  you  enjoy 
life  much  better  than  I  do."  She  regarded  Kath- 
erine as  if  surprised  at  such  presumption. 

"It  doesn't  need  to  be  so,"  rejoined  the  latter 
cheerfully.  "We  have  very  much  the  same  op- 
portunities, with  the  balance  rather  in  your  favor." 

Of  course  the  balance  was  in  Madeline's  favor. 
She  knew  it,  and  considered  that  the  fact  was  no 
more  than  right.  Then  why  should  Katherine 
be  gay,  when  she  herself  did  not  feel  at  all  so? 
She  attempted  to  analyze  her  dissatisfaction  with 
life.  With  herself  she  was  inclined  to  be  frank, 
and  her  search  revealed  to  her  two  crumpled  rose 
leaves.  One  was  Fritz  Sheldon's  apparent  indif- 
ference when  she  would  have  liked  him  to  exhibit 
his  positive  devotion,  the  other  was  a  doubt,  tiny 
and  irritating,  as  to  whether  Jasper  McKnight's 
allegiance  were  quite  as  strong  now  as  in  days 


SPRINGTIME.  235 

gone  by.  To  be  sure,  his  profession  occupied  him 
more  and  more,  yet  a  man  can  find  time  for  what 
he  most  desires.  Madeline  had  for  a  long  time 
dallied  nonchalantly  with  the  thought  that  Dr. 
McKnight  was  perhaps  the  most  suitable  man  of 
her  circle  to  claim  the  honor  of  her  hand.  Of 
late  she  had  grown  so  certain  of  it  that  she  began 
to  look  with  interest  for  the  decisive  proposition. 
That  it  had  not  yet  been  made  was,  she  knew,  a 
fact  against  which  her  mother  chafed. 

But  Pokonet  was  coming  —  and  leisure.  Given 
the  beach  at  Pokonet  and  idleness  —  Madeline 
looked  into  her  mirror,  and  as  she  prepared  to 
brush  her  pretty  hair,  her  lips  took  on  a  more 
complacent  curve. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

POKONET. 

"PoKONET  in  daisy  time,"  said  Katherine,  her 
hands  clasped  behind  her  head,  as  she  lay  in  a 
hammock  on  the  side  piazza  of  the  Hodgsons' 
house,  "  Pokonet  in  daisy  time  is  "  She  paused 
for  a  simile. 

"Is  Pokonet  in  lazy  time,"  suggested  Madeline, 
who  was  equally  idle  in  a  neighboring  deck-chair. 

This  piazza  was  no  original  part  of  the  gray  old 
farmhouse,  but  had  been  added  a  few  years  ago 
in  the  interests  of  that  leisurely  class  of  humanity 
known  as  summer  boarders. 

Katherine  glanced  at  her  sister.  "I  thought, 
when  we  first  came  down,  of  announcing  to  you 
that  whenever  you  spoke  derogatorily  of  Pokonet  I 
should  rise  in  my  dignity  and  leave  the  room;  but 
I  think  I  was  scared  before  I  was  hurt.  You  are 
glad  to  be  here." 

"Of  course,"  answered  Madeline  "else  why 
should  I  have  come? " 

"It  is  exactly  what  you  need,"  said  Katherine. 

"Why  do  you  stare  at  me  so?  I  know  I  am 
pale  and  ugly,  but  you  needn't  emphasize  the 
fact." 


POKONET.  237 

"You  look  tired,  and  this  crisp  air  and  the 
long,  still  nights  will  make  you  over  sooner  than 
anything  else." 

"You  are  none  too  blooming  yourself." 

"True  for  you;  but  I  should  never  think  of 
calling  myself  pale  and  ugly !  I  prefer  Mr.  Hodg- 
son's simile.  He  says  I  look  like  a  hot-house 
posy.  Now  I  call  that  real  gallantry;  but  we 
shall  soon  look  alive,  both  of  us,  planted  as  we 
are  at  last  in  the  open  air."  Katherine  gazed  off 
across  the  wide  field,  billowy  with  daisies,  to 
where  the  flowing  outlines  of  the  sand  dunes  hid 
and  revealed  the  vivid  blue  of  the  ocean.  "The 
saltness  in  this  air  is  the  savor  that  makes  life 
best  worth  having,"  she  went  on.  "These  brave, 
tall,  storm-beaten  ailanthus-trees  are  the  dearest 
in  all  the  world,  and  their  robins  are  the  most 
tuneful  and  trustful.  I  begin  to  feel  sleepy  with 
their  last  soliloquy  at  sunset,  and  I  like  to  think 
how  close  they  are  to  the  head  of  my  bed.  It 
would  be  sheer  folly  to  maintain  that  there  is  any 
other  such  place  to  sleep  as  this.  I  know  Mor- 
pheus has  his  headquarters  right  in  this  old 
house." 

"That  is  the  trouble,"  returned  Madeline. 
"Now  if  he  would  only  go  to  the  city  by  day  like 
the  other  men  "  — 

"Tut,  tut,"  interrupted  Katherine  warningly. 
"I  want  to  be  a  poet,"  she  went  on  dreamily, 
"and  write  a  poem  so  descriptive  of  evening  and 
night  in  Pokonet  that  it  shall  be  a  specific  against 


238  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

insomnia,  and  so  benefit  mankind.  I  would  tell 
of  the  hush  that  falls  so  gradually  with  twilight 
and  darkness.  Not  a  creature  moving  except  the 
birds  twittering  sleepily  as  they  search  the  branches 
for  the  most  comfortable  positions,  and  the  fireflies 
that  flit  silently  about  the  fields  with  their  lan- 
terns, to  make  sure  that  every  flower  has  his  eye 
shut.  The  ocean's  surge  is  softened  by  quarter 
of  a  mile's  distance  to  the  rhythmic  breathing  of 
a  sleeping  giant,  and  as  you  listen  it  grows  fainter, 
until  at  last  the  very  branches  cease  to  murmur, 
and  sleep  overtakes  you:  ten  hours  of  dreamless 
rest,  from  which  you  slip  back  to  life  in  a  new 
birth,  deliciously  free  from  all  sensations  save 
that  of  hunger." 

"Bravo!  Glad  I  came.!"  said  a  voice,  and 
Fritz  Sheldon  pushed  open  the  screen  door  and 
stepped  laughingly  out  upon  the  piazza. 

"I  sha'n't  get  up,"  said  Katherine,  not  chang- 
ing her  position,  as  she  smiled  at  him  with  flush- 
ing cheeks.  "  If  you  had  announced  yourself  prop- 
erly, sent  your  card  out  here  and  followed  it  at  a 
decorous  distance,  we  should  both  have  been  very 
happy  to  see  you.  As  it  is,  you  eavesdropped 
shamefully,  and  if  you  had  waited  a  little  longer 
would  probably  have  proved  the  proverb  and  heard 
nothing  good  of  yourself." 

"I  didn't  dare  to  wait  any  longer.  You  were 
so  graphic  that  I  found  myself  on  the  point  of 
snoring,  and  was  relieved  when  you  removed  the 
spell  and  waked  me  up  with  a  sensation  of  him- 


POKONET.  239 

ger.  I  assure  you,  the  first  whiff  of  this  air  has 
given  it  to  me." 

"You  weren't  expected,  were  you?"  asked 
Madeline,  who  had  half  started  up  to  greet  the 
new-comer,  and  now  sank  back  in  her  seat,  while 
Sheldon  took  a  rocking-chair  opposite. 

"No;  but  my  aunt  and  uncle  cannot  be  half  so 
much  surprised  at  my  being  here  as  I  am  myself. 
It  hinges  upon  the  very  fact  your  sister  was  just 
emphasizing,  namely,  the  soporific  qualities  of 
Pokonet.  Mr.  McKnight  came  down  to  spend 
last  Sunday  with  his  sister,  and  he  says  his  has 
been  a  wasted  life  because  he  did  n't  realize  before 
that  Arcadia  was  cheek  by  jowl  with  New  York 
city.  He  slept  like  a  top  here,  —  a  humming-top, 
probably ;  his  build  suggests  vocal  slumber,  —  and 
he  is  planning  that  we  shall  do  some  of  our  work 
in  Pokonet.  That  suits  me,  you  know."  Fritz 
smiled  in  his  contentment. 

"I  suppose  Marguerite  came  with  you,"  said 
Katherine,  recovering  from  her  temporary  em- 
barrassment, and  starting  to  leave  the  hammock. 

"No,  lie  still.  Marguerite  will  follow  to-mor- 
row or  next  day.  "We  were  both  unprepared  for 
my  coming  so  early,  and  she  has  some  arrange- 
ments to  make  before  leaving  the  flat,  and  some 
planning  to  attend  to  for  the  summer  comfort  of 
Lucia  and  her  family.  Mr.  McKnight  wanted 
me  to  come  down  with  him  this  afternoon." 

Madeline's  face  was  no  longer  listless.  An 
Adamless  Eden  had  not  been  to  her  mind. 


240  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"I  suppose  we  shall  see  nothing  of  you,"  she 
said,  half  pouting. 

"That  depends  upon  whether  Mr.  McKnight's 
genius  for  hard  work  becomes  more  fitful  down 
here.  Oh,  yes,  I  expect  to  get  more  of  a  vaca- 
tion than  I  hoped  for  by  this  pleasant  vagary  of 
his.  How  does  the  Wise  Woman  like  it?" 

"How  can  you  ask!  "  returned  Katherine. 
"Isn't  she  a  Wise  Woman?  She  wants  her  doc- 
tor now." 

"I  hope  he  can  soon  come.  I  saw  him  last 
night,  and  he  said  he  was  only  waiting  for  Dr. 
Granbury's  return.  Ah,  there  is  your  mother ;" 
he  rose  as  Mrs.  Ormond  deliberately  emerged 
from  the  screen  door,  her  face  indicating  her  sur- 
prise. "How  do  you  do,  Mrs.  Ormond.  You 
see  delegates  from  Montaigne  are  still  arriving. 
It  is  better  for  us  to  come  while  we  can  do  se  of 
our  own  accord,  with  some  show  of  dignity.  The 
chances  are  good  for  melting  and  running  down 
here  pretty  soon.  Jersey  thermometers  are  climb- 
ing." 

Mrs.  Ormond  responded  to  this  cheerful  address 
as  well  as  her  unprepared  condition  would  allow. 

Gilbert  had  confided  to  Katherine  that  their 
mother's  regard  for  Fritz  and  his  sister  still  shared 
somewhat  those  sentiments  with  which  the  devil 
is  said  to  regard  holy  water. 

"  Miss  Marguerite  is  n't  with  you  ?  "  asked  Mrs. 
Ormond,  casting  a  suspicious  glance  around. 

"No.  She  will  follow  shortly.  Take  this  chair, 
Mrs.  Ormond." 


POKONET.  241 

"Ah,  I  wish  my  poor  boy  could  get  away,"  said 
the  lady,  as  she  accepted  the  attention.  Fritz 
must  have  been  callous  indeed  if  he  did  not  per- 
ceive that  his  presence,  under  the  circumstances, 
was  an  injury.  Mrs.  Ormond  sighed.  "The 
youngest  member  of  a  law  firm  must  take  his 
chances,  evidently." 

"Very  lucky  to  have  business,  I  suppose,"  sug- 
gested Sheldon,  with  inexcusable  optimism.  "He 
ought  to  inveigle  his  seniors  down  here  for  a  night 
or  two.  They  would  probably  transfer  the  office 
bodily  to  one  of  the  booths  on  the  beach.  The 
attraction  has  worked  wonderfully  in  my  case, 
though  I  was  n't  clever  enough  to  foresee  it,  and 
did  none  of  the  luring  myself.  I  wonder  now," 
turning  with  a  sudden  idea  toward  Katharine,  "if 
the  Wise  Woman  builded  better  than  she  knew, 
or  whether  she  had  designs." 

"A  varied  experience  convinces  me  that  she 
usually  has  designs,"  replied  the  girl. 

Mrs.  Ormond  looked  displeased.  "I  'm  sure  I 
wish  Gilbert  had  some  friend  at  court." 

"Is  that  a  play  upon  words?"  asked  Madeline. 
"I  believe  the  courts  are  closed."  She  disap- 
proved her  mother's  manner.  Of  course  she  did 
not  think  of  Fritz  seriously,  but  he  possessed 
piquant  interest  for  her,  and  she  knew  that  "vine- 
gar does  not  attract  flies."  She  did  not  wish  him 
to  dread  this  piazza. 

The  long  white  beach  at  Pokonet  was  a  daily 
rendezvous  for  the  boarders  in  that  and  the  adja- 


242  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

cent  villages.  Wagonloads  of  bathers  were  driven 
over  from  the  inland  portions  of  the  pretty  town, 
but  the  fortunate  inmates  of  the  Hodgson  house 
strayed  through  flowery  fields  to  the  sea  at  their 
own  sweet  will,  unless  an  overweening  spirit  of 
luxurious  laziness  suggested  that  they  allow  Mose, 
the  faithful  family  steed,  to  draw  them  thither. 

When  the  white  flag  flung  abroad  its  announce- 
ment of  Neptune's  good  nature,  vehicles  of  all 
sizes  and  sorts,  from  the  smart  private  equipage  to 
the  well-filled  hay  wagon,  began  to  appear  along 
the  country  road,  headed  for  the  sand  dunes,  be- 
hind whose  friendly  protection  many  an  old  horse 
dozed  away  the  morning  hours  while  waiting  for 
the  pleasure  seekers  whose  gay  shrieks,  as  they 
gamboled  in  the  waves,  came  faintly  to  his  ears. 

Katherine  and  Madeline  were  experienced  bath- 
ers, and  sometimes  Mrs.  Ormond  and  Miss  Mc- 
Knight  also  went  into  the  surf;  but  more  often 
they  rested,  either  on  the  seats  under  the  evergreen 
boughs  which  roofed  their  own  particular  booth, 
or  sat  on  the  beach  and  leaned  against  the  wooden 
backs  which  they  planted  in  the  white  sand. 

Miss  McKnight  was  finding,  as  people  who 
expect  to  discover  it  do  find,  that  Fate  had  ar- 
ranged for  her  better  than  she  would  have  done 
for  herself.  She  had  been  denied  a  life  under 
the  same  roof  with  the  Ormonds.  She  realized 
now  that  the  abiding-place  Mrs.  Hodgson  had 
found  for  her  with  a  neighbor  gave  her  greater 
independence  and  quiet;  there  was  room  there 


POKONET.  243 

also  for  her  brother,  and  it  looked  now  as  if 
her  summer  would  give  her  all  she  had  hoped 
from  it. 

The  hours  that  she  and  Mrs.  Ormond  spent 
upon  the  beach,  their  bodies  side  by  side  and  their 
minds  widely  sundered,  were  not  fatiguing  to  her. 
For  one  thing,  she  could  gently  loosen  the  asso- 
ciation when  she  liked;  for  another,  it  was  often 
scarcely  necessary  to  say  a  word.  Mrs.  Ormond 
enjoyed  talking,  and  Miss  McKnight  enjoyed  lis- 
tening—  to  the  ocean,  and  watching  the  clouds. 
Different  as  were  their  standards  and  points  of 
view,  they  had  one  hearty  interest  in  common, 
and  that  was  their  children. 

"Old  maids'  children  are  said  to  be  perfect, 
you  know,"  replied  Miss  McKnight  one  morning 
011  the  beach,  when  Mrs.  Ormond  had  just  in- 
dulged in  a  eulogium  upon  Jasper. 

"I  am  very  fond  of  him,"  returned  Mrs.  Or- 
mond, with  serious  unction,  ignoring  her  compan- 
ion's laughing  remark.  "I  love  Jasper  like  my 
own  son.  Isn't  Madeline  a  graceful  bather?" 
continued  the  mother,  her  eyes  fixed  on  two  heads 
enveloped  in  red  silk  handkerchiefs,  whose  owners 
rose  lightly  on  a  strong  billow,  while  it  overturned 
a  timid,  shrieking  woman  who  never  ventured 
away  from  the  rope. 

"Both  the  girls  bathe  well.  I  enjoy  watching 
them.  I  expected  my  brother  and  Fritz  to  be 
here  by  this  time.  I  left  them  buried  deep  in 
papers." 


244  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Mr.  Sheldon  used  to  be  bathing-master  here," 
said  Mrs.  Ormond. 

"Indeed?  Then  I  'm  sure  it  will  be  a  treat  to 
see  him  go  into  the  water." 

"When  do  you  suppose  we  shall  have  our  poor 
boys?  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Ormond  rather  dolorously. 

"I  shouldn't  be  surprised  to  see  Jasper  any 
time.  I  hope  he  and  Gilbert  can  come  together." 

As  it  happened,  at  the  very  time  these  remarks 
were  being  made,  Jasper  McKnight  was  on  his 
way  to  Pokonet.  He  was  not  a  smoker,  and  as 
he  boarded  the  Long  Island  train  in  the  city,  his 
chief  aim  was,  if  possible,  to  get  a  seat  on  its 
shady  side. 

Moving  through  one  car  after  another  with  this 
object  in  view,  his  eyes  brightened  as  they  discov- 
ered Marguerite  Laird.  She  had  evidently  just 
ensconced  herself,  with  her  satchel  beside  her,  and 
was  trying  to  improve  the  arrangement  of  the 
window  blind  as  he  approached. 

"Let  me  wrestle  with  that,  Miss  Laird,"  he 
said,  lifting  his  hat.  "I  have  had  a  longer  expe- 
rience than  you  with  the  intricacies  of  these  par- 
ticular windows." 

"Oh,  are  you  going  down  to-day,  Dr.  Mc- 
Knight?" She  turned  in  surprise. 

"Yes.  I  have  shaken  the  dust  of  Montaigne 
from  my  feet  at  last,  and  what  a  lot  of  it  there 
has  been  lately.  If  you  will  allow  me  to  hold 
your  satchel,  my  vacation  can  begin  at  once.  I 
have  been  wishing  for  a  month  to  make  a  call 


POKONET.  245 

upon  you,  and  was  never  able  to  find  the  time." 
Marguerite  signified  that  he  might  sit  down.  "It 
seems  odd,  when  I  am  across  the  hall  from  you  an 
hour  each  day,  that  I  can  never  see  you.  Mental 
telegraphy  has  not  arrived  at  the  point  where  it 
can  be  called  a  fully  satisfactory  means  of  com- 
munication, and  formal  calling  has  been  an  almost 
impossible  indulgence  for  me  lately." 

"You  have  to  make  the  whist  club  serve  you 
for  purposes  of  sociability,"  remarked  Marguerite. 

"Yes,  when  I  am  fortunate  enough  not  to  have 
to  send  a  substitute;  and  if  you  can  suggest  any 
form  of  sociability  more  meagre  than  a  game  of 
whist,  I  shall  be  obliged  to  you." 

"  One  is  rather  hampered  in  the  line  of  conversa- 
tion," answered  Marguerite,  as  the  train  started. 
"I  have  heard  that  whist  is  the  only  game  which 
four  people  of  different  nationalities,  ignorant  of 
one  another's  language,  can  play  understandingly. 
Fancy  to  what  a  height  of  the  science  those  four 
strangers  must  have  attained !  " 

"Yes,  they  would  be  too  wise  for  our  whist 
club.  I  know,  Miss  Laird,  I  have  been  talking 
as  if  I  were  immensely  important  to  the  welfare 
of  Montaigne's  sick  and  suffering;  but  I  have 
been  busy.  It  is  n't  any  sinecure  to  be  hands  and 
feet  to  Dr.  Granbury's  head,  after  the  old  gentle- 
man begins  to  trust  you." 

Marguerite  smiled  at  the  rather  anxious  tone. 
"I  know  you  have  been  busy.  You  aren't  trou- 
bling yourself  to  apologize  to  me,  are  you?  " 


246  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"No,  I  am  explaining;  for  I  have  wanted  to 
see  you." 

Dr.  McKnight  was  in  a  different  way  as  sus- 
ceptible as  Katherine  Orraond  to  the  indefinable 
piquant  charm  of  Marguerite's  presence;  the  deli- 
cate repellence,  the  fine  aloofness  of  her  sphere 
was  a  fact  he  remembered  well  from  time  to  time. 
Her  dainty,  dark,  cool  garb  now  pleased  his  taste. 
She  did  not  look  heated  on  this  quiveringly  hot 
day.  "I  have  a  right  to  be  discontented  to  be 
near  and  yet  far  from  you,"  he  added,  "for  am  I 
not  one  of  your  oldest  friends?  You  admitted 
as  much  at  the  club  ball." 

"You  can  be  as  social  as  you  like  for  a  few 
days  now,"  returned  Marguerite,  scarcely  know- 
ing what  she  said,  as  her  thoughts  flew  back  to  the 
scene  he  had  recalled,  and  the  pangs  with  which 
she  had  been  ushered  into  a  new  life. 

"I  suppose  you  like  surf -bathing,"  said  her 
companion." 

"I  went  into  the  surf  twice  last  summer,  but  I 

was  very  stupid.     I  don't  see  how  any  one  learns 

to  jump  the  waves  at  the  right  moment." 

,  "You  will   learn   this   season.     The  Ormonds 

are  amphibious.     Gilbert  expects  to  get  off  soon." 

"I  am  glad.  The  only  drawback  to  going  out 
of  the  oven  into  the  oxygen  is  that  everybody  else 
can't  go  too.  I  feel  so  happy  about  Fritz.  I 
begin  to  think  he  was  born  with  the  silver  spoon, 
after  all." 

Jasper  met  her  glance,  so  suddenly  rich  with 


POKONET.  247 

feeling  as  she  spoke  of  her  brother  that  he  won- 
dered what  other  man  would  evoke  the  transfigu- 
ration. 

"It  must  be  a  mixed  pleasure  to  your  relatives," 
he  said,  "that  this  season  has  created  such  a  boom 
for  Pokonet." 

"Aunt  Althea  is  an  excellent  manager.  She 
has  good  help,  and  I  have  no  doubt  she  and 
uncle  Silas  are  enjoying  themselves.  You  know 
they  are  devoted  to  Katherine  Ormond." 

"To  the  whole  family,  I  suppose.  I  believe 
they  had  a  large  share  in  bringing  them  up,  and 
my  experience  is  that  the  more  of  a  torment  chil- 
dren are  to  those  who  train  them,  the  more  they 
are  doted  upon." 

Marguerite  looked  out  the  window.  "Then 
Katherine  must  have  made  the  most  trouble,"  she 
answered.  "I  am  venturing  to  surprise  my  aunt," 
she  added. 

"And  I,  mine,  although  the  nervous  shock  in 
aunt  Edna's  case  will  be  slight,  since  she  has 
expected  me  by  every  train  for  days." 

Nevertheless,  the  arrival  of  this  couple  at  the 
old  farm  made  a  certain  sensation.  Miss  Mc- 
Knight  was  at  the  Hodgsons'  that  afternoon,  sit- 
ting with  her  neighbors  on  the  large,  roofed  piazza 
which  had  become  their  living-room,  and  when 
Marguerite  and  Dr.  McKnight  made  their  appear- 
ance, there  was  for  a  few  seconds  a  confusion  of 
tongues  and  as  great  a  variety  of  facial  expression. 

Fritz  smiled  broadly  as  he  met  his  happy  sister. 


248  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Weren't  you  thoughtful,  to  save  me  the  trou- 
ble of  coming  to  the  station ! "  he  remarked  feel- 
ingly. 

"Isn't  a  brother's  gallantry  lovely,  Miss  Mc- 
Knight?"  laughed  the  girl,  as  she  passed  from 
him  to  the  Wise  Woman. 

The  visible  cloud  upon  Mrs.  Ormond's  face 
reminded  Madeline  that  she  must  not  show  a  simi- 
lar one,  so  she  threw  off  the  resentment  which  the 
sight  of  the  new-comers  as  traveling  companions 
had  aroused  in  her,  and  received  Jasper's  greet- 
ing as  smilingly  as  Katherine. 

"Aren't  you  feeling  well,  Mrs.  Ormond?"  he 
asked. 

"It  makes  me  a  little  sad  to  think  of  Gilbert. 
Just  think,  if  he  were  here,  your  family  and  ours 
would  be  complete! " 

"It  won't  be  long,  I  fancy,"  said  McKnight, 
turning  to  look  after  Marguerite,  as  she  and  Kath- 
erine moved  toward  the  house.  "Don't  forget 
your  promise,  Miss  Laird.  You  said  you  would 
try  to  recall  me  to  the  recollection  of  your  aunt 
and  uncle." 

"When  did  you  ever  see  them?"  asked  Made- 
line in  surprise. 

Jasper  regarded  her  reproachfully.  "  You  are 
as  uncomplimentary  as  I  expect  they  will  be.  You 
have  forgotten  my  one  visit  to  Pokonet  which,  as 
you  could  scarcely  have  been  more  than  seven 
years  old  at  the  time,  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to 
forgive  you." 


POKONET.  249 

"I  will  try  to  make  it  up  to  you  on  this  your 
second  visit,"  returned  Madeline  graciously. 

Mr.  Hodgson  drew  his  niece  aside  an  hour  later, 
when  the  McKnights  had  gone  home. 

"  Say,  Rita,  is  that  your  feller,  —  that  man  you 
come  down  with?"  he  asked  in  husky,  confiden- 
tial tones. 

"No,  indeed,"  she  answered,  casting  a  quick 
glance  about  for  possible  auditors. 

"Ye  're  as  red  's  a  piny.  Bet  he  is,"  returned 
the  old  man  triumphantly. 

"Hush,  Uncle  Silas.  It  would  be  very  morti- 
fying if  anybody  should  hear  you,  for  Dr.  Mc- 
Knight  is  attentive  to  one  of  the  Ormond  girls." 

"What'd  he  fetch  you  down  for,  then?"  pur- 
sued the  old  man  obstinately. 

"He  didn't.  We  happened  to  meet  on  the 
train." 

"I  've  heerd  o'  such  happenin's!  " 

"You  are  entirely  mistaken,  and  I  hope  you 
won't  try  to  tease  me  about  this.  You  will  spoil 
all  my  pleasure." 

"Jingo!  Ye  're  in  earnest,  girl,  ain't  ye?  All 
right.  Mum 's  the  word.  Ye  did  n't  tell  me 
which  Ormond,  though." 

"You  will  find  that  out  for  yourself."  Mar- 
guerite gave  a  faint  smile. 

"My  eyes  ain't  what  they  was,"  grumbled  the 
old  man. 

"They  're  good  enough  for  that,  Uncle  Silas." 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

MATERNAL   ANXIETIES. 

"  I  will  thy  name  repeat, 
Marguerite !  " 

sang  Gilbert  Ormond  at  the  foot  of  the  Hodgsons' 
short,  winding  staircase,  "at  least  I  shall  repeat 
it  till  you  come,"  he  continued. 

"All  right;  go  on,"  answered  Miss  ^aird  from 
some  mysterious  point  above.  "It  is  an  innocent 
amusement." 

The  low  ceilings  of  the  old  house  brought  its 
two  stories  into  such  neighborliness  that  communi- 
cation by  speech  between  the  two  was  easy. 

"When  are  you  coming?"  inquired  Gilbert  a 
little  later. 

"Just  as  soon  as  I  get  ready,"  responded  Mar- 
guerite sweetly. 

"Girls  are  always  late,"  grumbled  the  lower 
voice. 

"That  is  not  original.  I  am  almost  certain 
that  I  've  heard  it  before,"  was  returned  from 
upstairs. 

At  this  moment  Fritz  put  an  inquiring  face  in 
at  the  screen  door,  near  which  Gilbert  was  stand- 
ing. 


MATERNAL   ANXIETIES.  251 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  Marguerite  ?  She  is 
never  late." 

"Aha!  Do  you  hear  that,  Mr.  Ormond?" 
came  triumphantly  from  above. 

"I  don't  know,"  replied  Gilbert,  answering 
Sheldon.  "  I  have  interceded,  implored,  besought, 
all  in  vain.  I  don't  wonder  she  wants  to  remem- 
ber everything  before  coming  down  those  stairs, 
though,"  he  added  in  a  different  tone.  "Did  you 
ever  see  anything  so  ingeniously  uncomfortable  as 
their  build  ?  Mother  threatens  she  '11  never  come 
down  here  again  without  her  alpenstock  to  help 
her  climb  them.  Oh,  you  don't  say  you  're  com- 
ing? "  for  here  Marguerite  appeared,  and  began 
to  descend.  Gilbert  smiled  up  at  her. 

"Was  the  little  boy  in  an  awful  hurry  to  go  to 
ride?  "  responded  Miss  Laird  soothingly.  "Well, 
he  should;  so  there,  there!  " 

Mrs.  Ormond's  ostensible  reason  for  discontent 
had  been  removed  a  couple  of  days  before  by  her 
son's  arrival.  She  came  from  the  sitting-room 
into  the  little  hall  now. 

"You  are  really  going  on  that  drive,  are  you?" 
'she  said.  "Sha'n't  you  find  it  very  dusty?" 

"You  must  have  forgotten  last  night's  showers," 
returned  Fritz  good  -  hunioredly.  "  Where  are 
your  apologies,  Marguerite?" 

"I  found  something  important  to  do  at  the  last 
minute,  so  please  excuse  me ;  but  I  think  you  are 
all  very  ungrateful  to  complain  of  sitting  still  a 
few  minutes  this  beautiful  morning.  I  don't 


252  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

believe  Katherine  has  fumed,  have  you,  Kath- 
erine?" 

The  latter  looked  from  her  seat  in  the  carriage, 
as  her  friends  came  out  on  the  steps. 

"I  defy  anybody  to  disturb  me,"  she  replied. 
"I  did  think,  a  minute  ago,  the  horses  wouldn't 
wait  any  longer,  though.  Good  -  by,  mother. 
Are  n't  you  going  to  the  beach?  " 

"Yes.  Jasper  and  Madeline  have  gone  on.  I 
promised  to  follow;  but  I  wanted  to  see  you 
started  first." 

The  speaker's  anxieties  did  not  go  with  that 
couple  who  had  departed  across  the  field  followed 
by  her  unspoken  benediction.  It  was  right  here 
that  the  watchfulness  of  her  maternal  eye  was 
required. 

"Are  you  going  to  sit  there,  Miss  Katherine?  " 
asked  Fritz,  regarding  the  girl,  who  was  seated  in 
the  back  of  the  carriage.  "I  am  going  to  drive, 
and  I  hoped  you  were  going  to  talk  to  me." 

"Yes,"  said  Gilbert.  "Get  out,  please,  Kath- 
erine, and  let  Miss  Marguerite  take  your  place." 

"Surely  not,  Gilbert,"  said  Mrs.  Ormond, 
quickly.  "It  isn't  worth  while  to  make  any 
trouble." 

"Say,  mother,"  her  son  turned  upon  her, 
"who  's  taking  this  drive?" 

"Sensible  people,  I  hope,"  she  answered. 
"There  is  nothing  that  looks  so  countrified  as 
girls  and  men  driving  in  pairs  in  a  double  car- 
riage." 


MATERNAL   ANXIETIES.  253 

"Well,  where  are  we?"  demanded  Gilbert. 
"We  want  to  look  countrified.  There  is  nothing 
stiff  and  unadaptable  about  us,  I  hope." 

Katherine  had  started  to  obey  her  brother,  but 
her  mother's  words  and  look  made  her  hesitate. 

"It  is  certainly  not  very  important,"  said  Mar- 
guerite carelessly,  and  she  ended  the  discussion 
by  stepping  into  the  vacant  place  beside  Kather- 
ine. 

"Oh,  pshaw!"  exclaimed  Gilbert.  "Mother, 
why  didn't  you  remember  a  little  earlier  in  the 
day  how  healthful  sea  bathing  is? "  He  and  Fritz 
took  their  places,  and  the  livery  boy  who  had 
brought  the  horses  moved  off,  chuckling. 

Mrs.  Ormond  smiled.  "Saucy  child!  Well, 
good-by,  young  people,"  she  added,  as  the  car- 
riage started.  "Have  a  good  time." 

"Since  you  can't  hinder  us,  we  will,"  was 
Marguerite's  reply;  but  it  was  a  mental  one,  and 
she  smiled  encouragingly  into  Katherine 's  sober 
face,  which  seemed  to  kindle  from  her  friend's 
look,  and  take  on  its  usual  bright  aspect. 

Sheldon  turned  his  horses'  heads  inland,  and 
drove  through  the  outskirts  of  the  pretty  village 
among  farmhouses  covered  to  the  ridgepole  with 
clambering  vines.  Families  of  pink,  infantile  pigs 
gamboled  in  the  grass,  geese  and  ducks  made  the 
air  occasionally  vocal,  and  the  sight  and  sound  of 
nobler  birds  enlivened  their  way  through  strips 
of  green  meadow,  and  oak  forests  full  of  sweet 
fern  and  pierced  by  sunshine. 


254  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

The  wood  road  wound  and  ascended  insensibly, 
the  horses  pulling  slowly  through  the  sand,  until, 
arriving  at  an  opening,  Fritz  made  them  halt. 
Across  undulating  fields  lay  Pokonet,  nestling 
among  its  trees,  and  beyond,  between  the  billowy 
dunes,  there  showed  painted  ships  upon  a  painted 
ocean. 

It  was  a  winsome  picture.  "Now,  Mr.  Shel- 
don," said  Katherine,  as  they  all  looked  upon  it, 
"at  last  I  defy  you  to  think  of  steam!  " 

"No,"  answered  Fritz  pensively,  "I  was  think- 
ing of  sails.  I  was  wondering  if  the  accepted 
shape  of  sails  is  really  the  best  that  can  be." 

The  girls  laughed.  "I  give  you  up,"  said  Kath- 
erine, and  her  tone  made  Sheldon  look  around  at 
her. 

"Oh,  don't  give  me  up,  Miss  Katherine." 

"You  are  so  hopelessly  utilitarian." 

"But  you  aren't." 

"I  should  hope  not." 

"Then  that  is  the  reason  you  ought  to  keep  me 
with  you,  not  give  me  up." 

"If  there  were  any  hope  of  reforming  you  now," 
said  Katherine,  "but  of  course  I  couldn't  succeed 
where  Marguerite  has  failed." 

"In  my  bright  lexicon  there  is  no  such  word  as 
fail,"  remarked  Miss  Laird  airily.  "I  haven't 
tried  to  reform  him.  In  fact,  I  'm  another." 

"Another  what?  Utilitarian?"  asked  Gilbert. 
"You  want  me  to  contradict  you,  and,  with  my 
usual  sweet  compliance,  I' will." 


MATERNAL   ANXIETIES.  255 

"You  needn't  contradict  me.  I'll  prove  my 
position,"  returned  Marguerite.  "Fritz,  if  you 
don't  start  those  horses,  we  shall  be  late  to  dinner. 
We  promised  to  stop  in  the  village  to  get  the 
mail.  There,  behold  my  common  sense !  * 

"Oh,  who  wants  the  mail?"  ejaculated  Gilbert. 
"I  have  come  to  Pokonet,  the  world  forgetting, 
and  oh,  how  I  hope,  by  the  world  forgot." 

"That 's  it !  "  returned  Marguerite  triumphantly. 
"Fritz  is  quite  right.  It  is  a  good  thing  that 
there  is  a  utilitarian  on  each  seat  of  this  carriage." 

"I  can  think  of  useful  and  necessary  things  too 
when  I  want  to,"  said  Katherine  with  dignity. 
"  When  we  are  as  near  as  the  post-office,  it  will 
kill  two  birds  with  one  stone  if  we  stop  at  Ben- 
nett's and  get  soda." 

"Katherine!"  exclaimed  her  brother  reproach- 
fully. "Do  you  think  that  is  kind?  Bennett 
isn't  quite  Huyler,  of  course;  but  I  think  you 
slander  his  soda." 

The  drive  was  a  long  one,  and  the  party  were 
a  trifle  late  to  dinner.  Gilbert  did  not  fail  to 
ascribe  the  circumstance  to  Marguerite's  tardiness 
at  the  start. 

"I  sh'd  think,  Gilly,"  said  Mr.  Hodgson, 
slowly  looking  up  from  his  carver's  place  at  the 
table,  "that  Adam's  excuse  would  be  jest  a  trifle 
too  old-fashioned  for  you; "  and  Gilbert  joined  in 
the  laugh  at  his  own  expense. 

"Mr.  Ormond  is  such  a  conventional  young 
man,  uncle  Silas,"  explained  Marguerite.  "He 


256  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

must  have  a  most  respectable  precedent  for  every- 
thing he  does." 

The  girl,  as  she  spoke,  seated  herself  at  her 
aunt's  right  hand,  a  place  she  had  gayly  quarreled 
for  with*  Katherine,  claiming  it  as  her  right  to 
relieve  Mrs.  Hodgson  of  all  possible  labor  in 
serving. 

"How  was  the  bathing,  Madeline?  "  asked 
Katherine.  "Did  you  miss  me?  " 

"No,  it  was  a  little  rough,  and  I  must  say  I 
preferred  Jasper  as  a  companion,  to  you." 

Fritz  met  the  speaker's  eyes  with  his  good- 
humored  gaze. 

"With  your  predilection  for  taking  risks,  Miss 
Madeline,  I  think,  myself,  Dr.  McKnight  is  an 
excellent  companion  for  you.  He  could  rescue 
and  resuscitate  you  in  great  shape." 

"He  can't  swim  like  Mr.  Sheldon,  though," 
responded  Madeline  archly. 

"Jasper  does  n't  pretend  to  be  a  professional 
swimmer,"  remarked  Mrs.  Ormond.  "How  is  it 
that  I  haven't  seen  you  in  the  water  since  you 
came,  Mr.  Sheldon?  Is  it  too  much  like  shop?  " 

Katherine  darted  a  swift  glance  at  her  mother, 
and  then  caught  the  little  smile  which  curved 
Marguerite's  lips. 

"Well,  I  guess  it  isn't,"  put  in  Mrs.  Hodgson. 
"It's  just  about  as  much  of  a  treat  for  Fritz  to 
go  swimmin'  as  it  is  for  anybody." 

"The  real  truth  is,  though,"  added  Katherine, 
"that  he  loves  shop  not  wisely,  but  too  well.  He 


MATERNAL   ANXIETIES.  257 

won't  play  truant  as  he  ought  to,  but  likes  best 
of  all  to  browse  about  among  those  mysterious 
papers  with  Mr.  McKiiight." 

Fritz  looked  at  her  with  smiling  eyes,  stopping 
so  long  with  some  peas  poised  on  his  fork  that  the 
girl  began  to  feel  embarrassed. 

"The  Wise  Woman  says,"  she  continued,  in 
order  to  fill  up  the  pause,  "that  you  are  one  of 
the  fortunate  people  of  the  world,  because  you  love 
your  work." 

"But  you  mustn't  love  it  better  than  play,  or 
we  shall  expect  you  to  become  translated,  one  of 
these  beautiful  summer  days,"  remarked  Made- 
line. 

The  peas  found  their  destination  as  Sheldon 
glanced  at  the  last  speaker,  and  thereafter,  all 
through  the  remainder  of  the  dinner  hour,  he  con- 
tinued to  look  at  Madeline  from  time  to  time  so 
fixedly  that  his  sister  noticed  it  with  some  uneasi- 
ness. Madeline  was  conscious  also  of  this  obser- 
vation, and  decided  that  the  negligee  twist  which 
her  sunny  hair  had  received  after  coming  out  of 
the  water  must  be  particularly  becoming.  She 
resolved  to  look  in  the  glass  when  the  meal  was 
over,  and  get  hints  for  the  future. 

"I  think  four  of  you  going  to  drive  together 
was  very  exclusive,"  she  declared.  "It  should  be 
the  rule  here  that  no  one  may  do  anything  in 
which  the  whole  party  cannot  join." 

"A  straw  ride  would  suit  you,  perhaps,"  sug- 
gested Gilbert. 


258  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Oh,  yes,  a  straw  ride!"  exclaimed  Madeline, 
delightedly.  "Let  us  have  one  the  very  first 
moonlight  night.  Now,"  turning  to  Fritz,  "see 
that  you  do  not  rush  off  to  Newark  just  at  the 
wrong  moment." 

"That  depends  on  Mr.  McKnight.  If  he  pulls 
the  string  —  why,  up  I  go." 

"Before  I  would  be  a  puppet!  "  exclaimed 
Madeline  saucily. 

"It  won't  excite  our  compassion  at  all,  if  you 
are  whisked  away,"  remarked  Katherine.  "You 
know  you  would  rather  '  see  wheels  go  'round  '  at 
the  Works  than  over  the  side  of  a  hay  wagon." 

"Look  here,  I  object  to  having  Sheldon  made 
out  such  a  monstrosity,"  said  Gilbert.  "I  don't 
see  how  he  has  managed  to  get  up  such  a  reputa- 
tion as  a  slave  to  duty.  No  one  seems  troubled 
by  my  yearning  to  be  immersed  in  legal  questions 
rather  than  in  salt  water." 

"There  you  are!"  laughed  Katherine.  "You 
see  you  don't  belong  in  the  Wise  Woman's  most 
fortunate  class." 

"Go  'way.  The  person  who  wants  to  work  in- 
stead of  play  in  summer  time  is  diseased.  He 
ought  to  go  to  a  hospital  for  nervous  disorders." 

Marguerite  glanced  across  at  her  robust  bro- 
ther. "Fritz  looks  ready  for  that,  does  n't  he?" 
she  said. 

"I  'm  not  very  well,  uncle  Silas,"  declared 
Sheldon.  "How  does  the  bluefish  hold  out?  You 
might  give  me  a  fraction  of  a  pound  more,  any 


MATERNAL   ANXIETIES.  259 

fraction  you  like,  and  see  what  it  will  do  for  my 
nervous  system." 

"You  all  spoil  him,"  said  Mrs.  Ormond  vexedly 
to  Madeline  after  dinner.  "You  pay  that  young 
man  altogether  too  much  attention." 

"That  was  a  mean  thing  you  said  to  him, 
mother,"  returned  the  girl,  with  warmth. 

"What,  pray?" 

"About  swimming  being  shop.  Gilbert  just 
glared  at  you." 

"  Well,  upon  my  word !  It  is  a  pity  your  Mr. 
Sheldon  can't  be  kept  in  cotton  wool." 

"He  isn't  my  Mr.  Sheldon."  Madeline  tossed 
her  head.  "He  might  have  been,  if  I  had  wanted 
him,  but  I  didn't." 

The  milliner's  brother  commanded  her  admira- 
tion to  such  an  extent  that  she  liked  to  return 
repeatedly  to  this  memory.  It  was  a  pleasure  to 
voice  it. 

Her  mother  regarded  her  in  genuine  amazement. 
"Will  you  explain  yourself?"  she  said,  in  a  por- 
tentous tone. 

Madeline  shrugged  her  shoulder.  "You  need 
n't  look  tragic.  It  is  an  old  story.  It  happened 
at  the  period  you  twitted  him  with,  — when  he 
was  bathing-master." 

Mrs.  Ormond  caught  the  girl's  hand.  "My 
pretty  child!  What  an  escape!"  she  said  sol- 
emnly. "You  were  so  young,  you  might  easily 
have  been  foolish."  The  speaker  looked  carefully 
about  to  make  sure  they  were  alone.  "He  is 


260  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

really  very  good-looking,  with  that  attractive 
strength  and  genial  manner  which  might  have 
entrapped  so  young  a  girl.  Don't  talk  with  him 
or  be  with  him  any  more  than  you  can  help,"  she 
continued  emphatically.  "There  is  a  charm  to 
a  girl  about  any  man  who  she  knows  loves  her, 
and  even  with  that  presumptuous  fellow  it  might 
be  dangerous.  Pray,  what  right  has  he  to  be  sen- 
sitive about  any  calling  he  may  have  followed? 
He  is  only  a  sort  of  superior  mechanic,  a  work- 
man, a  laborer.  Oh,  my  good  child,  you  have 
been  so  sensible.  Now  don't  play  with  fire !  " 

Madeline  listened  to  this  speech  with  mixed 
sensations.  It  flattered  her  in  one  way,  but  she 
did  not  enjoy  hearing  Fritz  belittled.  Sheldon 
she  realized  had  not  apparently  disturbed  himself 
about  her  the  past  winter.  It  was  only  in  her 
most  complacent  moments  that  she  could  fancy 
that  he  concealed  deeper  feeling  than  he  showed. 
It  was  this  fact  which  made  her  turn  from  her 
mother  now  with  some  impatience. 

"Oh,  I  am  not  a  child,"  she  answered. 

"He  stared  at  you  so  at  dinner  time,"  said 
Mrs.  Ormond  uneasily. 

"Yes,  but  I  can't  help  that,"  was  the  reply. 

"Of  course  we  feel  very  sorry  for  him,"  went 
on  the  mother,  "but  I  shall  be  consolable  when 
Mr.  McKnight  takes  him  back  to  Newark.  How," 
added  Mrs.  Ormond,  and  paused  before  continu- 
ing, —  "how  did  Jasper  seem  this  morning?  " 

"In  his  usual  health,  thank  you,"  smiled  Made- 
line. 


MATERNAL   ANXIETIES.  261 

"This,  my  clear,"  the  lady  spoke  impressively, 
"is  a  very  different  matter." 

"I  understand  your  wishes,"  said  the  girl 
briefly. 

"I  hope,  my  child,  they  are  not  displeasing  to 
you." 

"I  wouldn't  advise  you  to  make  them  too  ob- 
vious," remarked  Madeline  dryly.  "This  life  is 
full  of  disappointments." 

Mrs.  Ormond  looked  at  her  a  moment  in  si- 
lence. "I  wish  you  would  not  make  me  unhappy 
by  such  suggestions,"  she  said  at  last.  "You  are 
a  prize,  Madeline,  for  a  man  who  does  not  need 
to  marry  money,  and  you  remember  Thackeray 
says  that  any  woman  who  has  n't  a  positive  hump 
may  marry  any  man  she  pleases." 

"Thackeray  never  said  a  more  false  and  foolish 
thing.  You  must  have  seen  facts  contradict  that 
declaration.  I  have,  more  than  once." 

"I  wish  I  knew  just  how  much  you  mean,"  said 
Mrs.  Ormond,  after  another  silent,  baffled  look. 
"Tell  me  one  thing,  Madeline.  Do  you  know  of 
any  other  girl  to  whom  Dr.  McKnight  pays  as 
much  attention  as  he  does  to  you?  " 

"Of  course  not,"  was  the  prompt  reply,  given 
with  an  indignant  air  which  restored  the  mother's 
smiling  confidence. 

Mrs.  Ormond  strolled  over  to  see  the  Wise 
Woman  that  afternoon.  Surely,  the  latter  was 
undeserving  of  the  appellation  if  she  could  not  see 
that  two  young  persons  who  were  created  for  each 


262  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

other  should  be  helped  on  toward  their  mutual 
happiness  by  those  who  loved  them  best. 

She  found  Miss  McKnight  sitting  out-of-doors 
and  reading  a  book,  which  was  closed  with  cour- 
teous alacrity  as  the  latter  rose  to  greet  her  guest. 

"You  really  ought  not  to  settle  down  here,  my 
dear,  when  our  house  is  close  by,"  said  Mrs.  Or- 
mond.  "The  cozy  corners  at  the  Hodgsons'  are 
more  numerous  and  attractive  than  here  at  the 
Berrys'." 

"  I  suppose  there  is  a  certain  charm  about  one's 
own  domicile,  and  I  have  adopted  this.  Sit  down 
in  this  corner.  You  will  find  the  few  intrusive 
sunbeams  rather  agreeable.  What  is  going  on 
to-day?" 

"Oh,  the  usual  things.  You  didn't  get  down 
to  the  beach  this  morning.  Madeline  and  Jasper 
had  a  fine  time.  The  rollers  were  large,  and  if  it 
had  been  anybody  but  Jasper  with  my  baby,  I 
should  have  been  frightened  sometimes ;  but  they 
enjoyed  it."  Mrs.  Ormond  sighed.  "I  am  so  glad 
for  every  happy,  care-free  time  my  child  has." 

"Dear  me.  I  fancied  Madeline's  were  numer- 
ous." 

Mrs.  Ormond  shook  her  head.  "Indeed,  I  as- 
sure you  the  path  of  an  attractive  girl  isn't  all 
roses ;  that  is,  provided  the  girl  has  a  heart,  and 
Madeline  is  all  heart,  poor  little  one." 

Mrs.  Ormond  paused,  but  Miss  McKnight,  be- 
yond looking  courteously  attentive  and  potentially 
sympathetic,  did  not  give  her  a  cue. 


MATERNAL    ANXIETIES.  263 

" To  tell  you  the  truth,  Edna,  —  and  oh,  what  a 
comfort  it  is  that  I  can  talk  to  you  as  to  an  own 
sister,  —  I  shall  be  glad,  unselfish  as  it  sounds,  glad 
to  see  Madeline  married.  Of  course,  no  girl  with 
sensibilities  talks  about  those  things,  but  it  is  a 
trying  thing  to  have  to  refuse  men." 

Miss  McKnight  bowed  gravely. 

"  And  when  a  girl  is  unavoidably  thrown  with 
a  rejected  suitor,  it  is  painful,  —  one  of  the  things 
that  really  wears  upon  her,  you  know." 

"I  can  easily  imagine  that." 

"Now  there  is  that  Sheldon  "  — 

"What?"  Miss  McKnight  started,  as  the  in- 
voluntary exclamation  broke  from  her. 

"Aha!"  thought  Mrs.  Ormond  triumphantly. 
"You  are  very  philanthropic  and  democratic  in 
theory,  but  this  begins  to  come  home  to  you,  does 
it?  "  Her  face  expressed  nothing  of  her  mental 
triumph,  and  she  nodded.  "Yes,  indeed.  You 
can  imagine  how  it  startled  me  to  learn  of  it." 

"I  am  so  sorry  to  hear  this,"  said  Miss  Mc- 
Knight fervently. 

"  Oh,  there  are  no  heights,  apparently,  to  which 
that  brother  and  sister  are  not  willing  to  aspire," 
returned  Mrs.  Ormond,  allowing  her  chronic  re- 
sentment to  be  manifest  for  the  moment.  "  I  am 
sure  you  should  be  the  last  one  to  blame  Madeline 
for  this  occurrence.  I  don't  want  to  say  anything 
disagreeable,  Edna,  nor  to  meddle  in  your  busi- 
ness. You  have  a  right  to  encourage  and  receive 
any  one  you  see  fit;  but  certainly  you  made  it 


264  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

very  hard  for  the  girls  not  to  welcome  those  young 
persons  as  social  equals." 

Mrs.  Ormond  was  vaguely  conscious  of  her  own 
obliquity  in  laying  upon  her  friend  the  respon- 
sibility of  an  occurrence  which  took  place  years 
before  Miss  McKnight  knew  the  culprit;  but  in 
her  own  opinion  she  had  such  just  cause  for 
complaint,  she  could  not  bring  herself  to  weaken 
her  cause  by  a  slavish  adherence  to  facts. 

Perhaps,  owing  to  the  Wise  Woman's  habit  of 
inattention  to  her  friend's  monologues,  she  did 
not  now  clearly  grasp  the  mother's  reproaches. 
She  merely  regarded  her  abstractedly,  and  re- 
peated :  — 

"I  am  so  sorry!  Why,  I  have  seen  nothing  to 
make  me  suspect  that  this  was  coming." 

Mrs.  Ormond  raised  her  eyebrows.  "You 
should  have  seen  him  stare  at  Madeline  all  dinner 
time  to-day.  I  don't  see  how  the  poor  child  was 
able  to  eat.  Children  of  nature  may  be  very 
interesting  to  some  people,"  the  speaker  could  not 
here  eliminate  all  spite  from  her  tone;  "but  for 
my  own  part,  I  prefer  the  more  cultivated  article. 
There  is  nothing  more  tiresome  than  transparent 
honesty." 

Miss  McKnight 's  far-away  gaze  suddenly  fo- 
cused itself  on  her  friend's  eyes.  "Are  you  quite 
sure  Madeline's  answer  was  final?  "  she  asked. 

Mrs.  Ormond,  her  own  mind  filled  with  the 
image  of  Jasper,  thought  she  understood  the  rea- 
son for  the  anxiety  in  this  question. 


MATERNAL   ANXIETIES.  265 

"Edna  McKnight!"  she  ejaculated.  "I  am 
almost  indignant  with  you  for  asking  such  a 
thing." 

"Oh,  I  didn't  mean  to  criticise  the  child.  I 
was  n't  suspecting  her  of  coquetry,  but  a  girl 
does  n't  always  know  her  own  mind  at  first.  Fritz 
may  have  surprised  her  nearly  as  much  as  he  has 
me.  I  thought  I  knew  him  so  well,  and  I  never 
suspected  this.  The  love  of  such  a  nobleman  is 
a  great  and  precious  treasure,  a  greater  thing, 
perhaps,  than  a  light-hearted,  popular  girl  like 
Madeline  can  immediately  appreciate." 

Mrs.  Ormond  reddened  in  her  surprise,  and 
tittered  half  hysterically.  "Are  you  thinking  of 
Sir  Thomas  Hodgson  when  you  use  such  flattering 
terms?" 

"Indeed,  I  was  never  more  earnest.  Fritz 
Sheldon  is  one  of  nature's  noblemen,  such  as  you 
meet  once  or  twice  in  a  lifetime.  Madeline,  in  my 
opinion,  has  received  a  great  honor." 

"Indeed?"  returned  Mrs.  Ormond,  breathing 
fast  with  anger,  but  controlling  herself  by  an 
effort.  "Take  it  home  closer  still.  How  would 
you  like  to  see  Jasper  marry  a  girl  inferior  to  him 
in  station  and  advantages?  " 

A  slight  smile  softened  the  Wise  Woman's 
lips,  as  she  slowly  shook  her  head.  "My  likes 
would  not  figure.  It  is  taking  a  grave  responsi- 
bility to  meddle  in  such  matters." 

"You  would  quietly  let  such  a  thing  go  on, 
supposing  it  were  possible?  " 


266  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

Miss  McKnight  bowed.  "A  mother  should 
bring  her  children  up  to  respect  the  highest  stand- 
ard she  can  set  before  them.  That  is  all  she 
can  do." 

"Do  you  mean  that  you  would  not  use  all  your 
influence  with  Jasper  for  or  against  desirable  and 
undesirable  girls  of  his  acquaintance  ?  " 

"I  certainly  should  not."  The  decided  reply 
sent  Mrs.  Ormond's  regard  for  her  dear  friend 
down  to  zero.  "  In  my  code,  it  would  not  only  be 
unwise,  in  the  case  of  a  man  like  Jasper,  it  would 
be  a  —  a  vulgarity." 

"Theories  are  easy  to  build  and  to  declare," 
said  Mrs.  Ormond,  scarcely  conscious  that  she 
rose  as  she  spoke.  "I  should  have  to  remind  you 
of  this  talk,  I  think,  if  actual  occurrences  brought 
the  case  home  to  you.  You  are  willing  enough 
to  give  my  child  away  to  your  protege,  but  how 
should  you  like  Jasper  to  marry  Miss  Laird,  and 
call  Silas  Hodgson  '  uncle  '  ?  " 

The  Wise  Woman  had  risen  when  her  guest 
did,  and  now  she  met  this  excited  challenge  with 
a  smile.  "All  good  girls  are  princesses,"  she 
said  calmly,  regarding  the  other's  defiant  coun- 
tenance, "but  Marguerite  Laird  "  —  she  spoke  the 
name  with  affectionate  admiration  and  paused, 
then  added  impressively  —  "is  a  crown  princess !  " 

Mrs.  Ormond  remained  dumb  for  a  moment, 
and  in  that  moment  Jasper  McKnight  came  hur- 
riedly around  the  corner  of  the  piazza  where  they 
sat. 


MATERNAL   ANXIETIES.  267 

The  guest  regarded  him,  startled,  and  wondered 
in  that  instant  whether  the  flush  on  his  dark 
bright  face  was  from  heat.  She  uttered  a  rather 
mirthless  laugh. 

"You  came  just  in  time,  Jasper.  Your  aunt 
and  I  had  forgotten  that  summer  is  no  time  for 
argument,  and  were  hard  at  it.  Let  us  see.  Do 
combatants  shake  hands  after  coming  out  of  the 
ring  as  well  as  just  before  going  into  it?  We 
will,  at  any  rate.  I  really  must  be  going,  so 
good-by,  Edna,"  and  Mrs.  Ormond  retreated  in 
good  order  without,  sore  within,  and  repeatedly 
asking  the  same  question  of  her  own  fast-beating 
heart,  —  "Did  Jasper  hear?" 

The  young  physician  took  the  seat  she  had 
vacated,  and  began  to  whistle  under  his  breath, 
meanwhile  fanning  himself  with  his  hat,  and  meet- 
ing his  aunt's  silent  regard.  She,  too,  was  asking 
herself  how  much  he  had  heard. 

"Aren't  you  going  to  sit  down?"  he  asked  at 
last. 

"I  was  just  wondering  whether  I  would." 

Miss  McKnight  spoke  gravely.  The  thought 
of  Fritz's  trouble  had  returned  to  weigh  heavily 
on  her  heart. 

"Better  sit  down,"  said  Jasper.  "I  will  read 
you  something  out  of  that  magazine ;  "  and  she 
complied  mechanically. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE   BUOYS. 

MRS.  ORMOND  kept  the  scene  recorded  in  the 
last  chapter  locked  in  her  own  breast.  She  went 
to  her  room  with  the  headache  as  soon  as  she 
reached  home,  but  the  next  morning  found  her 
refreshed,  and  ready  to  be  at  her  usual  post  on 
the  beach. 

All  three  girls  walked  down  with  her  through 
the  field  to  the  sea. 

"Your  daughters  have  excited  my  ambition  so, 
Mrs.  Ormond.  "No  matter  how  many  duckings 
I  get,  I  am  determined  some  time  to  swim  as  they 
do,"  said  Marguerite. 

"Yes?  I  don't  know  that  you  ever  can,  though. 
There  is  something  in  beginning  when  one  is  very 
young." 

"I  think  you  must  have  thrown  me  in  a  la  sav- 
age when  I  was  a  baby,  mother,"  remarked  Made- 
line. "  It  seems  to  me  I  was  always  at  home  in 
the  water." 

Mrs.  Ormond  looked  over  her  shoulder  across 
the  fields. 

"Aren't  we  to  have  any  of  our  young  men  this 
morning?"  she  asked. 


THE    BUOYS.  269 

"Gilbert  drove  to  the  village  to  do  an  errand 
for  Mrs.  Hodgson,"  said  Katherine. 

"It  was  so  kind  of  him,"  put  in  Marguerite. 

"I  should  think  so,"  remarked  Mrs.  Ormond. 
"Gilbert  always  was  too  good-natured.  He  lets 
himself  be  im  —  " 

"Do  see  that  crow,  mother!  "  interrupted  Kath- 
erine. "No,  it  isn't  a  crow,  either.  I  believe  it 
is  a  gull.  It  's  hard  to  be  sure  of  anything,  this  daz- 
zling morning,  except  that  everything  is  radiant." 

The  three  girls  were  so,  at  all  events.  Mrs. 
Ormond  regarded  her  daughters  with  satisfaction. 
As  soon  as  Jasper  had  performed  the  one  thing 
required  of  him,  she  felt  that  her  cup  of  content 
would  be  full.  She  never  gave  more  than  a  pass- 
ing thought  to  Katherine'  s  future.  Katherine 
was  one  of  the  little  -noticed  requisites  to  daily 
comfort,  not  beautiful  or  brilliant,  only  necessary. 
She  never  considered  what  it  would  be  to  get 
along  without  Katherine. 

Midway  of  the  field  they  met  Fritz  Sheldon. 
"You  are  going  the  wrong  way,"  cried  Madeline 


"I  had  to  take  my  plunge  early,"  he  said,  look- 
ing at  Katherine,  as  they  paused.  "Mr.  Mc- 
Knight  wants  me  this  morning." 

"How  tiresome!  He  always  wants  you,"  re- 
turned Madeline.  Her  mother  seized  her  arm  and 

• 

gently  urged  her  along. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  this  afternoon?" 
asked  Fritz,  addressing  Katherine. 


270  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Anything  that  comes  up,"  she  answered. 

"Want  to  go  crabbing?  " 

"Yes,  indeed.  It  is  chronic  with  me  to  want 
to  go  crabbing."  Fritz  was  lifting  his  hat  to 
move  on.  "One  condition,  though,"  she  added, 
her  eyes  twinkling  as  she  stretched  forth  a  warn- 
ing hand.  "You  must  promise  not  to  try  to  in- 
vent some  way  to  make  crabs  walk  forward.  I 
am  opposed  to  vivisection.  No  taking  off  their 
legs  and  putting  them  on  hind  side  before,  or 
anything  of  that  kind !  " 

Sheldon's  rare  laugh  sounded  heartily  across 
the  field,  and  made  Mrs.  Ormond  turn  back  un- 
easily; but  Katherine  was  following  sedately  with 
Marguerite,  and  the  objectionable  mechanic  was 
departing  with  satisfactory  haste. 

His  was  a  singularly  heart-whole  laugh,  Mrs. 
Ormond  could  not  help  considering;  but  one 
should  not  look  for  deep  feeling  from  that  species, 
she  decided. 

"Where  is  Jasper?  "  she  inquired,  rather  crossly. 

"I  haven't  him  about  me,"  was  her  daughter's 
retort. 

The  girls  were  in  the  water  before  Dr.  Mc- 
Knight  appeared.  Mrs.  Ormond  was  sitting  in 
the  sand  trying  to  arrange  her  board  support  to 
suit  her,  when  she  heard  his  voice. 

"Let  me  do  that." 

• 

"Oh,  thank  you,  Jasper.  Katherine  didn't 
sink  it  deep  enough,  and  it  has  been  slipping, 
slipping,  ever  since." 


THE   BUOYS.  271 

The  doctor  fixed  the  board  firmly  in  place,  then 
stood  up  and  waved  his  hat  to  the  mermaids  sport- 
ing in  the  waves. 

Mrs.  Ormond  followed  his  gaze  complacently. 
Her  girls  were  encouraging  and  helping  Margue- 
rite, who  pluckily  submitted  to  many  a  choking 
tumble  in  her  efforts  to  emulate  their  skill. 

"Poor  Miss  Laird!  "  said  Jasper,  laughing 
aloud  in  sympathy  with  the  merriment  in  the 
water. 

"Yes,"  remarked  Mrs.  Ormond.  "I  think  she 
would  better  hold  by  the  rope,  and  go  in  but  very 
little  way.  She  is  too  ambitious.  She  should  be 
satisfied  with  small  things." 

"I  think  I  will  join  them,  Mrs.  Ormond.  Au 
mxnV,"  and  the  doctor  hurried  away  toward  the 
bath-house. 

Now  things  were  going  as  they  should.  Mrs. 
Ormond  smiled  unconsciously  as  she  watched  the 
shifting,  dizzying  play  of  water  piling  up  and 
falling  away  from  the  shore. 

In  a  few  minutes  Dr.  McKnight  ran  past  her, 
jumping  into  the  brine  and  bobbing  up  and  down 
until  his  crisp,  dark  hair  was  flattened  to  his 
head.  She  watched  with  benevolent  interest  as 
laughing  greetings  were  interchanged,  then  saw 
Madeline  push  out  a  little  way,  rise  upon  a  big 
wave,  then  swim  off  a  few  strokes.. 

"Why  doesn't  Jasper  stop  talking  to  those 
girls,  and  go  with  Madeline?"  she  thought,  not 
uneasily;  she  knew  her  child  was  at  home,  and 


272  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

the  bathing-master  was  on  the  watch,  but  it  chafed 
her  always  to  see  the  young  physician  speak  to 
Marguerite  Laird. 

This  feeling  had  been  painfully  increased  by 
yesterday's  talk  with  his  aunt.  Mrs.  Ormond 
had  reckoned  on  her  as  an  ally.  Now  she  felt, 
and  with  some  mortification  as  well  as  resentment, 
that  she  stood  alone. 

Jasper  continued  to  keep  his  back  turned  to 
Madeline. 

"You  are  doing  finely,  Miss  Laird,"  he  said 
encouragingly. 

"Oh,  I  don't  think  so,"  she  returned  breath- 
lessly. "  It  is  a  knack,  and  I  'm  afraid  I  '11  never 
get  it.  The  undertow  is  like  a  giant  hand  that 
drags  at  my  feet  and  frightens  me  in  spite  of 
myself." 

"Come,  let  me  help  you."  Jasper  took  the 
hands  which  in  the  bewilderment  of  the  seething 
water  she  willingly  yielded,  and  drew  her  a  little 
farther  out. 

The  tide  was  rising,  and  the  billows  increasing. 

"I  want  to  be  a  cork  like  Katherine,"  she 
gasped,  as  a  wave  struck  her,  and  she  clung  more 
tightly  to  the  supporting  hands. 

"You  are  not  frightened,  are  you?  " 

"A  little." 

"Trust  me,  and  you  shall  be  a  cork." 

A  step  further  out,  and  a  roller  went  completely 
over  Jasper's  head,  while  Marguerite  found  her- 
self gently  lifted  above  it. 


THE   BUOYS.  273 

"It  is  glorious!  you  will  be  drowned!"  she 
ejaculated,  as  the  smile  gleamed  above  her  in  his 
olive-skinned  face,  and  he  let  her  sink  down  be- 
tween two  waves. 

"I  take  lots  of  drowning,"  he  answered,  and 
up  she  went  again,  while  the  tide  went  roaring 
over  his  head. 

Mrs.  Ormond  from  her  sandy  throne  looked  on. 
"Oh,  it  is  convenient  to  be  a  novice,  very  con- 
venient," she  soliloquized  wrathfully.  "It  is 
very  nice  to  monopolize  the  attention  of  the  only 
man  in  the  party.  Who  is  that  with  Madeline? 
Oh,  it  is  one  of  those  Deweys.  Why,  Edna,  is 
that  you?"  she  added  aloud  with  a  start,  for  she 
had  been  so  absorbed  that  she  did  not  notice  the 
approach  of  her  friend. 

Miss  McKnight  seated  herself  beside  her. 
"Yes,  I  came  down  with  Fritz." 

"I  thought  he  said  Mr.  McKnight  needed 
him." 

"Yes;  but  Robert  decided  after  all  to  drive 
about  a  little  this  morning  with  Mr.  Hodgson,  so 
Fritz  thought  he  could  catch  the  bathers,  and  we 
hurried  down.  He  is  in  the  bath-house." 

In  a  few  minutes  Sheldon  approached  in  his 
bathing-suit. 

"  It  is  a  good  thing  you  have  come  to  help  your 
sister,"  said  Mrs.  Ormond. 

Fritz  looked  toward  the  splashing,  laughing 
couple,  who  had  now  come  into  shallower  water. 

"Rita  seems  to  be  doing  very  well,"  he  replied, 


274  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

with  an  equanimity  for  which  Mrs.  Ormond  could 
willingly  have  stabbed  him  with  her  bonnet  pin. 

"Hurry  up!  "  said  Miss  McKnight.  "The  girls 
will  be  getting  tired.  I  want  to  see  you  swim." 

He  obediently  ran  down  the  slope  into  the 
water,  and  took  a  header  through  a  great  green 
roller  which  sent  its  foam  in  irregular  lacework 
nearly  to  the  watchers'  feet. 

Miss  McKnight  looked  on  admiringly,  Mrs. 
Ormond  eagerly.  Would  he  come  back  to  Mar- 
guerite? His  were  the  legitimate  arms  to  support 
her  as  she  "bobbed  up  serenely  "  on  the  "emerald 
hills."  He  returned,  shaking  the  water  from  his 
eyes,  but  it  was  Katherine  he  approached. 

"You  repented,"  she  said. 

"Mr.  McKnight  did,  and  I  hurried  back.  Fate 
seemed  determined  not  to  allow  you  and  me  to 
have  a  social  swim,  but  she  has  relented." 

"I  have  been  wanting  to  go  out  to  the  buoys," 
said  Katherine,  "but  I  did  n't  quite  like  to,  alone." 

"Better  take  that  some  time  when  you  are 
fresh,"  suggested  Sheldon. 

"Do  you  call  that  far?" 

"Yes,  for  you." 

"That  shows  how  little  you  appreciate  my 
powers,"  said  the  girl  gayly.  "I  must  go  now 
any  way,  to  show  off." 

"I  wouldn't.  You  must  have  been  in  the 
water  fifteen  minutes  already." 

"But  I  haven't  been  doing  anything  except 
float  about  and  help  Marguerite  shriek." 


THE   BUOYS.  275 

"That  takes  breath,  though.  Eemember  I'm 
an  old  salt.  I  've  been  bathing-master." 

"And  you  seem  to  fancy  yourself  so  still, '\ re- 
turned the  girl,  with  a  saucy  smile.  "Good-by, 
Mr.  Sheldon,  it  may  be  for  years,  and  it  may  be 
forever;  but  I  prophesy  it  is  for  about  twenty 
minutes." 

She  struck  out  toward  the  barrels  bobbing  in 
the  distance. 

In  an  instant  Fritz  was  swimming  beside  her. 
"You  didn't  suppose  I  would  let  you  go  alone? " 

"No,  perhaps  I  didn't,"  she  answered,  her 
eyes  twinkling  at  him  as  she  laid  her  head  to  one 
side  and  cut  through  the  water. 

"Don't  talk  any  more,"  he  said,  "and  swim 
quietly." 

"Do  see  Katherine  and  Fritz,"  said  Marguerite 
to  Dr.  McKnight.  "Where  can  they  be  going?  " 

"I  hope  not  far  in  that  direction,"  returned 
Jasper.  "I  think  it  is  risky  for  a  girl  to  get  far 
from  shore.  There  is  always  the  possibility  of 
cramp  for  anybody." 

"Fritz  wouldn't  ask  her  to  do  anything  risky," 
said  Marguerite,  "  and  how  beautifully  they  go ; 
but  how  do  they  dare?  Just  think!  Nothing 
beneath  them  but  water  and  —  and  sharks!  " 

Jasper  smiled.  "Are  you  going  in,  Miss 
Laird?" 

"Yes."  She  smiled  back  at  him.  "I  am  ever 
so  much  obliged  to  you,  but  I  think  I  've  had 
enough." 


276  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"I  think  so,  too.  Your  teeth  are  beginning  to 
chatter  suspiciously." 

Miss  McKnight  beckoned  as  they  sought  dry 
land,  and  they  approached,  and  sat  down  in  the 
sunshine  near  the  two  friends. 

"Bravo,  Marguerite,"  said  the  Wise  Woman, 
kindly.  "How  soon  do  you  think  you  will  be 
venturing  off  there  like  Katherine?" 

"We've  been  watching  them.  Isn't  she  dar- 
ing, Mrs.  Ormond  ?  " 

"Katherine  is  an  unusual  swimmer  for  a  girl, 
I  'in  told,"  was  the  stiff  reply.  Mrs.  Ormond 
was  in  the  worst  possible  humor.  For  the  first 
time  in  her  life,  she  was  incensed  with  Jasper. 
"All  the  same,"  she  added  tartly,  "I  should  sup- 
pose Mr.  Sheldon  would  turn  back  by  now.  I 
should  think  he  would  remember  that  a  girl's 
strength  is  hardly  equal  to  his." 

Marguerite  flushed  and  bit  her  lip,  and  Dr. 
McKnight  saw  it.  "I  don't  believe  you  could 
give  Mr.  Sheldon  any  points  in  that  matter,  Mrs. 
Ormond,"  he  said  quietly.  "They  can't  turn 
back  now.  It  would  make  too  long  a  stretch. 
They  evidently  mean  to  rest  at  the  buoys." 

Out  amid  the  glass-green  billows  Katherine  and 
Fritz  swam  on.  The  latter  saw  that  his  compan- 
ion's breath  began  to  come  hard,  and  her  white 
face  looked  strained.  He  pressed  nearer  to  her 
and  smiled. 

"  Shall  we  rest  a  minute  ?  Lots  of  time, "  he  said, 
reassuringly.  "Put  your  hand  on  my  shoulder." 


THE   BUOYS.  277 

She  obeyed.  "  Those  buoys  —  have  such  a 
funny  way  —  of  floating  backward,"  she  answered. 

His  eyes  seemed  to  send  courage  into  hers.  "I 
know;  but  we  are  really  not  far  from  them  now." 

"Yes,  and  I  am  quite  able  to  go  on."  She 
struck  out  again ;  but  it  was  a  very  pale  girl  who 
finally  grasped  one  of  the  buoyant  casks  and  hung 
there. 

"I  am  going  to  seat  you  on  that,"  said  Fritz. 

"You  can't,"  she  replied  breathlessly. 

"I  don't  take  a  dare,  Miss  Ormond,  any  more 
than  you  do." 

With  some  difficulty  he  dragged  her  heavily 
from  the  clinging  water  and  seated  her  on  the 
barrel.  The  sun  and  air  felt  warm  and  reviving 
to  her. 

"You  did  not  dare  me,"  she  said  gravely.  "I 
was  foolish  to  insist." 

"I  hope  you  don't  feel  any  bad  effects,"  he 
returned  anxiously.  He  was  balancing  her  unsta- 
ble throne,  and  supporting  himself  thereby. 

"It  is  my  first  long  swim  of  the  season,  and 
I  ought,  as  you  said,  to  have  been  fresh  when  I 
started.  For  one  moment  there,  it  seemed  to  me 
there  was  nothing  but  water  between  me  and 
China.  I  was  panic-stricken."  Her  lip  quivered 
as  she  tried  bravely  to  smile. 

Fritz  looked  at  her  solicitously,  his  heart  shin- 
ing in  his  honest  eyes.  "You  ought  to  have  told 
me.  Were  you  too  proud?  " 

"Perhaps,  or  too  frightened,  or  something. 
You  are  awfully  good  not  to  crow  over  me." 


278  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

Katherine  looked  so  childlike,  as  she  said  it, 
with  her  round  bare  arms  and  her  eyes  wide  and 
serious  under  the  red  silk  handkerchief,  that  her 
companion  smiled. 

"You  spoke  to  me  just  at  the  right  moment, 
though,"  she  added.  "Otherwise,  perhaps,  I 
might  have  lost  my  head." 

"I  hoped  we  were  better  friends  than  that," 
said  Fritz,  his  elbow  leaning  on  the  barrel,  and 
his  eyes  still  upon  hers.  "I  find  it  makes  me 
jealous  to  know  that  you  are  more  reluctant  to 
ask  of  me  than  of  Gilbert.  You  would  have  told 
Gilbert  you  were  frightened." 

Katherine 's  color  rose  quickly.  "  I  did  n't  know 
you  were  capable  of  such  an  unscientific  emotion 
as  jealousy,"  she  said,  with  a  gleam  of  mischief. 

"Neither  did  I,"  answered  Fritz,  with  prompt 
frankness.  "Promise  me  you  won't  rouse  it 
again." 

"You  want  me  to  make  you  just  as  much  trou- 
ble as  I  do  Gilbert?  " 

"Exactly." 

"Well,  that  is  the  way  our  acquaintance  be- 
gan," she  said. 

"Perhaps  that  is  the  reason  I  am  impatient  of 
any  retrogression,"  he  answered. 

Neither  spoke  for  a  moment,  and  Katherine 's 
color  faded. 

"Do  you  dread  the  return  trip?"  asked  Shel- 
don at  last. 

She  gave  a  quick  look  down  into  his  upturned 


THE   BUOYS.  279 

face.  "A  little,"  she  answered.  "I  am  disap- 
pointed not  to  find  myself  stronger.  It  all  comes 
of  staying  away  so  long  from  Pokonet." 

Her  companion  saw  that  she  was  really  uneasy. 

"You  do  not  need  to  dread  it,"  he  returned, 
and  the  quiet  strength  which  was  always  suggested 
by  his  tone  and  look  and  manner  were  never 
more  observable  than  now.  "Don't  let  this  .be- 
come anything  less  than  a  lark,"  he  added  lightly, 
with  a  smile.  "I  could  swim  in  there  with  you 
as  easily  as  not." 

Katherine  felt  reassured,  and  laughed.  "That 
would  make  my  venture  something  very  much 
less  than  a  lark,"  she  said.  She  pictured  to  her- 
self her  mother's  face  under  the  supposititious 
circumstances.  From  her  uneasy  perch  on  the 
shifting  waves,  she  looked  toward  the  figures  on 
the  beach.  "There,  I  think  I  am  rested  now," 
she  said  at  last. 

"Then  off  we  go,"  responded  Fritz  cheerily. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  was  more  anxious  than 
Katherine  to  see  her  on  dry  land  once  more. 
"One  moment,  though;  I  suppose  you  would  like 
to  go  in  with  flying  colors." 

"There  's  no  mistake  about  that.  I  would  like 
to." 

"  Then  let  me  suggest  that  you  accept  my  assist- 
ance the  first  part  of  the  way."  Sheldon  wished 
she  did  not  look  so  pale,  but  his  tone  was  as  cheer- 
ful as  possible.  "  Girls  are  handicapped,  any  way, 
by  then1  bathing-suits." 


280  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Oh,  it  always  seems  so  much  shorter  going 
back,"  replied  Katherine  stoutly.  "Thank  you, 
but  I  shall  be  all  right.  Now,  then." 

She  slipped  off  the  cask  into  the  water,  and 
struck  out. 

"You  are  a  good  swimmer,"  said  Fritz  heartily. 

He  knew  the  paramount  importance  of  mental 
conditions  in  the  unstable  element,  and  the  best 
he  could  do  was  to  give  her  a  bit  of  stimulating 
praise  and  keep  his  eye  on  her. 

She  went  on  bravely;  but  no  one  save  herself 
could  ever  know  how  long  those  seconds  seemed 
after  the  first  half-dozen  strokes  had  been  taken. 
The  sea  was  roughening. 

"Almost  there,"  cried  Fritz  gayly. 

It  did  not  look  so  to  Katherine.  The  beach 
retreated  now  as  the  buoys  had  done  a  little  while 
before.  She  could  not  remember  to  float,  or  tread 
water,  or  use  any  of  the  means  to  rest  which 
seemed  so  easy  and  natural  when  shallow  water 
and  a  foothold  were  within  reach.  The  waves 
were  cruelly  big,  and  noisy,  and  strong.  She  felt 
feeble  and  tiny  among  them. 

Sheldon's  watchful  eye  never  left  her  face.  At 
last  she  gave  an  involuntary  exclamation,  and 
almost  instantly  she  felt  the  firm  support  of  his 
arm. 

She  would  not  give  up,  though  her  breath  was 
growing  unmanageable.  She  would  help  him. 
She  would  not  become  a  dead  weight. 

The  interested  group  on  the  shore  were  watch- 


THE  BUOYS.  281 

ing  them  closely.  The  runaways  were  coming 
back,  and  Mrs.  Ormontl's  uneasiness  had  van- 
ished. '*  Katherine  is  entirely  at  home  in  the 
water,"  she  said  complacently.  "I  consider  such 
swimming  as  hers  a  very  useful  accomplishment." 

"Why,  Fritz  has  gone  to  her.  What  are  they 
doing  ?  "  asked  Marguerite,  gazing  curiously. 

Dr.  McKnight's  face  changed,  and  he  started 
to  his  feet,  and  looked  toward  the  pair  with  a 
sharp  but  undecided  gaze. 

Their  movements  were  suspicious,  yet  Kather- 
ine  seemed  to  be  swimming. 

"What  is  it,  Jasper?"  asked  Miss  McKnight. 

He  sat  down  again.  "I  thought" —  He  hesi- 
tated, then  sprang  to  his  feet,  ran  down  the  sands, 
and  plunged  into  the  water. 

The  whole  party  rose;  for  his  manner  was 
startling. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  asked  Mrs.  Ormond, 
alarmed. 

"Katherine,  Katherine!"  she  cried,  with  sud- 
den sharpness,  for  the  pair  were  now  near  enough 
for  her  to  see  that  Sheldon  was  holding  his  com- 
panion in  one  arm,  and  that  she  had  ceased  to 
make  any  motion. 

Madeline  came  running  from  a  little  distance, 
and  joined  her  exclamations  to  her  mother's  as 
Fritz,  at  last  gaining  his  feet,  and  dripping  like  a 
young  sea-god,  came  walking  through  the  shallow 
water,  carrying  Katherine,  limp  and  unconscious, 
in  his  arms.  Dr.  McKnight  strode  on  beside  him. 


282  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Great  heavens,  is  she  dead?"  shrieked  Mrs. 
Ormond,  wringing  her  hands.  "  What  were  you 
thinking  of,  Mr.  Sheldon,  to  make  her  do  such  a 
thing!  Oh,  Katherine !  " 

"She  has  fainted,"  said  Dr.  McKnight  curtly. 
"Stand  back." 

Fritz,  not  responding  to  any  one,  deposited  his 
burden  on  the  warm  white  sand. 

"Here,  doctor!"  he  gasped.  Mrs.  Ormond 
was  still  hysterically  calling  upon  her  child  and 
reproaching  Sheldon,  when  Fritz  rose  from  a  last 
glance  at  Katherine,  brushed  the  mother  aside, 
and  started  off  running. 

"Somebody  else  ought  to  go!"  exclaimed  Dr. 
McKnight,  falling  on  his  knees  beside  the  uncon- 
scious girl  and  chafing  her  hands.  "  What  strength 
that  fellow  has!" 

"Where,  where,  doctor!"  exclaimed  Margue- 
rite eagerly. 

"To  the  Life  Saving  Station.  Brandy  and 
blankets." 

The  girl  sped  off  in  her  short  skirt,  running  like 
a  deer  up  the  sandy  incline  between  the  dunes  to 
the  station  close  by.  She  met  her  brother  in  the 
house. 

Several  of  the  men  were  there,  eager  to  help. 
She  insisted  on  sending  one  of  them  to  the  beach 
with  the  desired  articles,  and  drew  Fritz  outdoors 
in  the  sunshine,  where  she  made  him  sit  down. 

"I'm  all  right,"  he  declared,  rather  breath- 
lessly. 


THE   BUOYS.  283 

"You  will  be  in  a  minute,"  she  returned,  stand- 
ing over  him. 

"She  didn't  swallow  any  water,"  he  said,  look- 
ing up  after  a  little  pause,  during  which  his  breath- 
ing made  the  only  sound. 

"That  is  good.  Don't  take  any  girl  so  far  out 
again,  will  you?  " 

"Not  if  I  can  help  it." 

"Couldn't  you  help  it  this  time?" 

A  smile  flitted  over  Sheldon's  tanned  face.  "I 
might  have  carried  her  on  shore  bodily  in  the  first 
place,  I  suppose." 

"Oh,  that's  it."  Marguerite  paused  thought- 
fully. "Katherine  will  be  ashamed." 

"I  hope  not." 

Marguerite  rested  her  hand  on  his  shoulder. 
"Fritz,  I  have  a  new  thermometer,  or  barometer, 
or  something,  to  measure  my  own  goodness  by." 

"Have  you?" 

"Yes.  I  can  always  gauge  my  spiritual  state 
by  my  sentiments  toward  Mrs.  Ormond." 

"Humph!"  ejaculated  Fritz.  "Talks  through 
her  hat  a  good  deal,  doesn't  she?  I  've  a  vague 
idea  she  pitched  into  me  when  we  came  in  just 
now." 

"I  should  say  she  did." 

"Never  mind.     She  is  Katherine's  mother." 

Marguerite's  eyes  widened  a  little  at  this  un- 
expected argument.  "And  Madeline's,"  she  sug- 
gested. 

"Yes,  that 's  more  credible."     Fritz   lifted  a 


284  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

humorous  glance  to  his  sister's  face,  and  her 
expression  took  on  a  shade  of  relief. 

"It  worried  me  yesterday,  Fritz,  to  see  the  way 
you  stared  at  Madeline  at  dinner,"  she  said.  "I 
was  afraid  the  burned  child  might  be  forgetting 
the  fire." 

Sheldon  shook  his  head.  "No  fire  there,"  he 
returned  quietly.  "  I  guess  I  did  stare  at  her.  I 
was  wondering  how  it  could  be  that  I  ever  lay 
awake  all  night  to  think  about  her.  Just  run  out 
between  those  dunes,  will  you,  Rita,  and  see 
what 's  going  on,  on  the  beach." 

Marguerite  obeyed,  and  soon  returned. 

"Katherine  is  moving,"  she  reported,  "and 
Mr.  Dewey  is  just  bringing  a  carriage  across  the 
sand  to  take  her  home." 

"I  hope  that  exhaustion  didn't  go  deep,"  said 
Fritz  gravely.  "Those  weren't  the  pleasantest 
moments  I  ever  spent  before  we  got  in  to  where  I 
could  get  a  foothold.  The  poor  girl  was  n't  light 
after  she  let  go,  and  Neptune  's  got  an  awful  grip, 
but  I  didn't  like  to  frighten  you  by  singing  out." 

"Dear  old  Fritz!"  exclaimed  Marguerite  im- 
pulsively. "I  '11  try  to  forgive  Katherine." 

He  turned  slowly  toward  her  a  look  which 
startled  her  and  burned  into  her  memory. 

"You  will  have  to  forgive  Katherine,"  was  all 
he  said;  but  his  tone  gave  her  food  for  reflection. 


CHAPTER   XX. 
A   REPENTANT   CULPRIT. 

"LET  her  alone,  and  let  her  sleep  all  she  will." 

Dr.  McKnight  said  this  so  imperatively,  upon 
leaving  Mrs.  Ormond  at  noon,  that  the  next 
morning  dawned  before  she  and  Madeline  had 
an  opportunity  to  ease  their  minds  to  Katherine 
concerning  her  escapade. 

Mrs.  Ormond  came  in  her  wrapper  to  her 
daughters'  room  at  an  early  hour. 

As  Katherine  opened  her  eyes  to  greet  her, 
there  were  no  signs  of  her  adventure  in  her  face. 

"I  am  glad  you  have  come,  mother,"  said  Made- 
line. "I  haven't  dared  to  speak  to  her  for  fear 
she  was  still  sleeping." 

"For  once  in  my  life,  the  only  time,  I  believe, 
I  have  slept  enough,"  remarked  Katherine,  re- 
turning her  mother's  kiss. 

"How  you  frightened  us,  my  dear!"  was  Mrs. 
Ormond's  greeting.  "Do  you  feel  entirely  natu- 
ral this  morning?  " 

"Entirely.  I  am  very  sorry,  and  as  mortified 
as  I  can  be  about  yesterday.  I  ask  everybody's 
pardon,"  replied  Katherine  meekly. 

"It    is    more   than   that   boorish    Sheldon    has 


286  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

done,"  said  Mrs.  Ormond.  "He  didn't  come 
home  to  supper  at  all  last  night.  I  dare  say  he 
was  ashamed  to  look  me  in  the  face." 

"He  was  busy  with  Mr.  McKnight,  Marguerite 
told  me,"  said  Madeline. 

"Oh,  she  condescended  to  say  that  much,  did 
she  ?  I  never  saw  any  one  so  dumb  as  that  young 
woman  can  be  when  she  chooses.  She  never 
opened  her  lips  on  the  subject  last  evening.  Any 
girl  with  feeling  would  at  least  have  apologized 
for  her  brother  if  he  had  n't  the  grace  to  come 
and  do  it  for  himself.  He  never  came  once  the 
whole  afternoon  to  find  out  how  you  were  after 
half  drowning  you !  " 

"Yes  he  did,  mother,"  said  Madeline.  "He 
came  over  from  the  McKnights'  for  some  of  his 
drawing  things,  and  he  asked  if  Katherine  was 
getting  on  all  right." 

"Very  kind  of  him,  I  'm  sure,"  returned  Mrs. 
Ormond,  with  a  curling  lip. 

Katherine  looked  from  one  to  the  other  with 
large,  bewildered  eyes.  "Didn't  Mr.  Sheldon 
tell  you?  But  of  course  he  did  n't.  The  idea  of 
his  apologizing  to  us!  Why,  mother,  he  said  all 
he  could  to  keep  me  from  going  out  to  those 
buoys.  He  knew  I  wasn't  in  condition  for  it.  I 
insisted,  and  went  in  spite  of  him.  It  was  just 
one  of  those  silly  things  I  have  always  despised 
when  other  girls  did  them.  I  suppose  he  believes 
that  I  think  it  was  fascinating  of  me  to  faint  and 
make  him  no  end  of  bother.  Oh,  the  more  1  think 


A   REPENTANT   CULPRIT.  287 

of  it,  the  more  idiotic  it  grows !  "  Katherine's 
eyes  became  suffused.  The  others  stared  at  her 
blankly. 

Madeline  was  the  first  to  break  the  silence. 
"  Well,  mother,  that  leaves  you  in  a  pretty  posi- 
tion," she  said.  "I  imagine  you  wish  now  you 
hadn't  been  quite  so  vigorous  in  your  denuncia- 
tions of  Fritz." 

"Don't  tell  me  you  blamed  him?"  exclaimed 
Katherine  beseechingly.  "Not  to  his  face!  " 

"Don't  ask  me  what  I  said,"  returned  Mrs. 
Orniond  shortly.  "I  was  nearly  beside  myself." 

"Oh,  that  does  put  the  crowning  touch  to  the 
whole  performance ! "  groaned  poor  Katherine, 
turning  her  head  away  in  despair. 

It  was  such  a  novel  mood  for  her  that  her 
mother  hastened  to  speak :  — 

"Of  course,  any  one  with  Mr.  Sheldon's  sense 
would  make  allowances  for  my  excitement.  Don't 
mind  that." 

"I  suppose  a  crowd  gathered  instantly  and 
heard  you,"  mourned  Katherine. 

"Fritz  didn't  remain  to  receive  all  mother's 
flattery,"  said  Madeline,  with  malicious  humor. 
"He  brushed  her  aside  as  if  she  were  a  gadfly, 
and  lit  out  for  the  brandy  and  things." 

"He  wasn't  there  when  I  waked  up,"  said 
Katherine,  giving  expression  to  a  thought  which 
had  risen  in  her  mind  during  each  wakeful  interval 
since  yesterday  noon. 

"Are  you  surprised  at  that?  "  smiled  Madeline. 


288  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"  I  'm  sure  he  had  been  led  to  suspect  that  his 
place  was  not  in  the  very  heart  of  our  family 
circle." 

Katherine  kept  her  head  turned  away,  and  gave 
an  inarticulate  murmur. 

Mrs.  Ormond  felt  uneasy.  Madeline's  little 
pouts  and  vexations  were  frequent;  but  to  see 
Katherine  in  the  dumps  was  wholly  novel,  and  to 
know  herself  the  chief  cause  of  offense  was  irri- 
tating. 

"Now  look  here,  child,"  she  said,  patting  the 
girl  coaxingly.  "Don't  you  take  that  to  heart  at 
all.  I  '11  turn  the  whole  thing  off  in  some  joking 
way  the  next  time  I  see  Mr.  Sheldon,  and  it  will 
be  all  right.  He  is  not  sensitive.  These  thick- 
skinned,  common  people  don't  mind  trifles." 

Katherine  turned  over  quickly  on  her  pillow, 
and  looked  at  the  speaker.  "Mother,"  she  said, 
"if  Mr.  Sheldon  were  a  common  person,  this 
world  would  be  transformed." 

Mrs.  Ormond' s  face  under  this  unexpected  re- 
joinder was  a  study.  She  stood  motionless,  while 
the  steady  young  voice  went  deliberately  on. 

"He  is  the  kindest,  best-balanced,  best  man  I 
ever  knew." 

Madeline,  who  had  risen,  regarded  the  speaker 
curiously.  "Well,"  said  her  mother,  at  last, 
"what  do  you  expect  me  to  do  about  it?  " 

"Oh,"  returned  Katherine,  the  energy  gone  out 
of  her  voice,  "I  don't  know." 

"I  think,"   remarked  Madeline   pertly,    "that 


A   REPENTANT    CFLPRIT.  289 

considering  he  has  fished  so  many  members  of 
your  family  out  of  the  water,  it  would  be  rather 
graceful  of  you  to  thank  him.  First,  it  was  Gil- 
bert, I  came  next,  and  now  it  is  Katherine.  He 
used  to  rescue  me  on  an  average  of  once  a  day. 
I  knew  he  liked  it,"  here  she  threw  a  glance  at 
Katherine,  "and  it  didn't  hurt  me."  Madeline 
had  been  inclined  to  envy  her  sister  the  sensation 
she  made  yesterday,  and  she  might  have  been 
more  disagreeable  about  it  but  for  a  new  admirer 
at  her  shrine,  a  Mr.  Dewey,  whose  incense  was  at 
present  smoking  high. 

"If  you  think  Mr.  Sheldon's  claims  can  be  post- 
poned until  my  toilet  is  made,  I  will  go  to  my 
room,"  said  Mrs.  Orniond,  with  a  mixture  of 
scorn  and  dignity. 

For  a  time  after  her  departure,  silence  reigned 
in  the  room.  Each  sister  was  busy  with  her  own 
thoughts.  Madeline  had  plenty  that  was  pleasant 
to  think  of,  yet  she  was  not  so  entirely  self-ab- 
sorbed as  to  be  able  to  enjoy  tasting  the  flattering 
sweets  stored  up  in  her  mind  while  she  suspected 
that  Katherine  was  seriously  unhappy.  It  was 
such  a  turning  of  tables  for  her  to  be  obliged  to 
adopt  the  role  of  comforter  that  she  hardly  knew 
how  to  begin. 

"Aren't  you  going  to  get  up,  Katherine?"  she 
asked,  at  last. 

"  I  dread  to  go  to  the  breakfast-table  and  meet 
them  all,"  was  the  answer. 

"You  're  making  a  mountain  out  of  a  mole-hill, 


290  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

truly  you  are,  but  if  you  want  me  to  bring'your 
breakfast  up,  I  will." 

"You  are  very  good,"  returned  Katherine  grate- 
fully. 

As  soon  as  Madeline  had  left  the  room,  she  rose 
and  made  her  toilet,  then  sat  down  by  an  open 
window  and  looked  out  through  the  long  ailantlms 
branches. 

She  had  so  much  to  think  of,  with  such  strange 
alternations  of  humiliation  and  pleasure,  it  seemed 
to  her  that  her  one  peaceful  plan  of  life  would  be 
to  stay  right  here  in  this  room  alone  for  months, 
until  she  had  lived  down  the  one  and  compre- 
hended the  other. 

It  was  a  foggy  morning;  the  sun  had  not  yet 
burned  the  mists  away.  She  idly  watched  what 
seemed  a  little  snowy  sail  dipping  rhythmically 
on  the  gray  sea  of  the  veiled  field,  and  so  real 
seemed  the  illusion,  she  smiled  as  she  realized  that 
it  was  the  tail  of  a  white  hen  out  on  a  foraging 
expedition. 

To  be  alone  was  the  next  best  thing  to  being 
asleep.  She  wished  no  one,  thinking  especially 
of  Marguerite,  would  feel  obliged  to  come  to  see 
her. 

The  door  of  her  room  opened,  and  Miss  Mc- 
Knight  walked  in,  bearing  a  breakfast  tray. 

Katherine  started  up  in  her  surprise.  "Dear 
Wise  Woman !  So  early  ?  " 

The  visitor  deposited  the  tray  on  a  stand,  and 
returned  the  girl's  affectionate  greeting.  After 


A   REPENTANT   CULPRIT.  291 

all,  the  Wise  Woman  was  the  one  person  she 
wanted,  and  she  hadn't  known  it. 

"Of  course  I  couldn't  wait  to  see  my  little  girl. 
Well,  how  is  it?"  Miss  McKnight  held  her  off 
and  looked  at  her. 

"I've  slept  myself  well,  but  that  is  all,"  re- 
turned Katherine,  wincing  under  scrutiny.  "I 
am  in  hiding." 

"Indeed?  Well,  sit  down  here,  and  have  some 
breakfast  first  of  all,  and  then  tell  me  what  the 
trouble  is." 

Katherine  obeyed,  and  began  to  eat  the  baked 
apple  over  which  Mrs.  Hodgson  had  poured  her 
best  cream. 

"It  ought  to  be  skimmed  milk,"  groaned  the  girl. 

"Why  this  humility?  I  fail  to  see  that  you 
have  done  anything  to  be  ashamed  of,"  said  the 
other,  seating  herself  comfortably.  The  Wise 
Woman  was  one  who  always  paid  other  people's 
homes  the  subtle  compliment  of  behaving  as  if 
their  surroundings  fulfilled  her  every  desire. 

"That  is  because  Mr.  Sheldon  didn't  peach." 

"Explain  yourself.      Open  confession  is  good." 

"I  would  go  out  to  the  buoys.  He  tried  to 
persuade  me  not  to." 

Miss  McKnight  smiled  musingly.  "Fritz  is 
always  level-headed.  I  have  had  a  soft  spot  in 
my  heart  for  him  ever  since  we  first  met.  It  is 
rapidly  spreading  over  the  whole  extent  of  that 
organ,  and  I  only  hope  it  can  be  restrained  from 
attacking  the  brain." 


292  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"I'm  glad  you  appreciate  him,"  said  Kather- 
ine,  busy  opening  an  egg.  She  looked  up  sud- 
denly. "You  were  there,  dear  Wise  Woman, 
when  he  brought  me  in.  You  must  have  heard 
the  things  mother  said  to  him,"  the  girl's  lips 
tightened,  while  her  eyes  filled;  "and  here  I  sit 
eating  eggs  !  "  she  finished. 

"Just  the  right  thing  to  do,  my  dear.  One 
duty  at  a  time.  Eggs  happen  to  be  the  first  one 
this  morning." 

"Well,  that's  why  I'm  in  hiding.  I  am  a 
little  afraid  of  the  Hodgsons,  more  afraid  of  Mr. 
Sheldon,  and  mortally  afraid  of  Marguerite !  You 
can  appreciate  why  I  want  to  get  under  the  bed 
and  stay  there !  " 

"  Poor  Fritz !  Fate  gives  him  some  pretty  hard 
knocks,"  said  Miss  McKnight.  Doubtless  Kath- 
erine  was  aware  of  the  fact  which  Mrs.  Ormond 
communicated  a  couple  of  days  before,  and  which 
had  been  coloring  the  Wise  Woman's  thoughts 
ever  since. 

"His  sister  thinks  he  is  lucky,  usually,"  re- 
turned Katherine  dejectedly. 

"Providence  knows  best,"  said  the  other  qui- 
etly, "but  I  don't  take  Fritz's  great  disappoint- 
ment very  philosophically.  A  short-sighted  mor- 
tal like  myself  would  give  such  a  man,  one  who 
is  not  capricious  or  shallow,  the  woman  he  wants. 
Even  if  the  girl  is  not  just  the  one  I  would  choose 
for  him,  I  should  feel  certain  he  would  do  her 
good." 


A   REPENTANT   CULPRIT.  293 

The  cocoa  Katherine  was  drinking  suddenly 
met  some  obstruction  in  her  throat,  which  vig- 
orously disputed  the  right  of  way.  She  choked, 
and  set  down  her  cup. 

Lifting  a  glass  of  water,  she  drank,  taking 
some  time  between  the  sips. 

"Want  to  be  patted  on  the  back?"  asked  Miss 
McKnight  laughingly. 

"It  is  all  right  now,"  returned  the  other,  but 
the  sudden  color  faded  from  her  face,  and  her 
visitor  noted  for  the  first  time  that  the  excitement 
of  yesterday  had  left  its  traces. 

"  Of  course,  if  Mr.  Sheldon  is  struggling  with 
a  great  trial  of  that  nature,"  said  the  girl,  push- 
ing back  from  the  table,  "yesterday's  pin-pricks 
would  not  affect  him  much.  I  can  comfort  myself 
with  that  thought."  She  did  not  meet  the  older 
woman's  eyes  as  she  spoke,  and  the  latter  thought 
she  understood  the  evasion. 

"Don't  hesitate  to  speak  out,  my  dear.  Your 
mother  confided  in  me." 

"About  what?" 

"Madeline  and  Fritz." 

Katherine  looked  at  her  companion  now,  and 
her  face  warmed  again. 

"Is  that  what  you  were  talking  about,  a  minute 
ago?" 

"To  be  sure."  Miss  McKnight  wondered  at 
the  expression,  unsympathetic  to  say  the  least, 
which  grew  on  her  young  friend's  countenance. 

Katherine 's  eyes  made  an  approach  to  the  fa- 


294  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

miliar  twinkle.  "That  is  ancient  history,"  she 
said. 

"What  do  you  mean?  " 

"That  happened  two  years  ago,  when  they  met 
down  here.  I  don't  know  how  serious  it  was. 
It  was  only  a  matter  of  two  weeks." 

"Katherine,  you  make  me  feel  ten  years 
younger! " 

The  two  smiled  at  each  other,  then  the  girl 
moved  back  to  the  table.  "Why,  I  am  not 
through  breakfast,  am  I?  And  oh,  dear,  I  have 
to  get  back  under  the  bed  again !  " 

"What  exasperates  me,"  said  Miss  McKnight 
reflectively,  "is  the  number  of  unnecessary  vibra- 
tions my  nerves  of  sympathy  have  undergone." 

"It  is  very  odd,  but  mother  must  have  misun- 
derstood. Perhaps  Madeline  threw  out  some  hints, 
and  didn't  explain  the  whole  matter." 

"Humph!  "  returned  the  Wise  Woman. 

Katherine's  cocoa  went  down  this  time  unhin- 
dered. 

Marguerite,  knowing  what  visitor  was  upstairs, 
did  not  attempt  to  go  at  once  to  see  Katherine. 

"It  looks  bad,  her  not  coming  down?  "  said 
Fritz  interrogatively,  as  he  paused  on  the  piazza 
to  speak  with  his  sister  after  breakfast. 

"I  dare  say  she  feels  a  little  lazy,"  returned 
Marguerite,  "but  it  is  easy  to  see  from  Mrs. 
Ormond's  and  Madeline's  behavior  that  there  is 
nothing  very  serious  the  matter  with  her." 

Gilbert  here  came  out  on  the  piazza,  leading 


A   REPENTANT   CULPRIT.  295 

his   mother  with  an  air  of  some  determination. 
They  approached  Fritz. 

"I  've  just  been  hearing  from  Madeline  the  true 
inwardness  of  yesterday's  adventure,"  said  Gil- 
bert, "and  the  Ormond  family  wish  to  express 
their  thanks  in  due  form  as  well  as  sincerely." 
The  young  man  kept  an  arm  around  his  mother 
as  he  gave  Sheldon's  hand  a  hearty  shake. 

Mrs.  Ormond  cleared  her  throat.  "I  was 
under  a  misapprehension  yesterday,  which  really 
seems  very  absurd  now,"  she  said.  "Katherine 
was  fortunate  in  having  you  with  her.  She  "  — 

"Don't  mention  it,"  interrupted  Fritz  hastily, 
noting  her  embarrassment.  "If  Miss  Katherine 
is  not  ill  from  the  experience,  there  is  nothing  to 
regret  in  it." 

"You  just  stick  right  by  us,  Sheldon,"  said 
Gilbert.  "As  a  family  life-preserver  you  give 
perfect  satisfaction.  We  've  no  wish  to  change." 

Fritz  smiled.  "  Very  well ;  try  to  keep  out  of 
mischief  this  morning,  though,  for  I  am  going  to 
be  busy.  Good-by,  Rita.  I  hope,  Mrs.  Ormond, 
that  Miss  Katherine  will  soon  be  downstairs." 

"Thank  you.     I  think  she  will." 

"I  haven't  seen  her  since  the  fracas,"  said 
Gilbert.  "  I  think  I  '11  go  up  and  visit  the  inter- 
esting invalid.  Come,  mother." 

"Miss  McKnight  is  with  her  now." 

"Yes,  I  know,  but  Madeline  has  gone  up.  I 
guess  there  will  be  room  for  two  more.  Shall  you 
go  to  the  beach  after  a  while,  Miss  Marguerite?  " 


296  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"I  will  think  about  it,"  replied  the  girl,  lean- 
ing back  against  the  pillows  in  the  hammock; 
and  then  she  was  left  alone. 

She  recalled  Mrs.  Ormond's  face  and  manner 
during  the  recent  interview,  and  smiled  as  she 
rocked  herself  gently,  touching  the  toe  of  her  slip- 
per to  the  floor. 

"Good  morning,"  said  a  voice  beside  her.  Jas- 
per McKnight  had  approached  noiselessly  on  the 
turf,  and  stood  there  leaning  his  arms  upon  the 
railing. 

He  offered  her  a  daisy.  "I  thought  the  fields 
had  entirely  dropped  the  subject  of  Marguerite," 
he  continued,  "but  I  just  happened  to  find  this, 
blooming  alone." 

She  accepted  the  flower,  and  drew  its  stem 
through  her  belt.  "Thank  you.  I  ought  to  be 
satisfied  with  daisies  for  one  season." 

"What  is  the  programme  to-day?  " 

"The  usual  delicious  blank." 

"  That  sounds  well,  but  I  think  you  are  a  rather 
energetic  set." 

"Indeed,  and  are  you  '  out  of  it '  ?  " 

"Oh,  I  follow  the  procession,  of  course,  but  I 
am  never  guilty  of  an  idea." 

"  We  are  all  tolerably  blameless  in  that  line.  I 
had  ideas  enough,  though,  in  the  still,  small  hours 
last  night,"  continued  Marguerite  with  a  signifi- 
cant nod,  which  Jasper  received  eagerly.  Every 
approach  to  familiar  friendliness  from  her  to  him 
was  still  a  novelty.  "I  was  in  the  waves  all 
night,  it  seemed  to  me." 


A    REPENTANT    CULPRIT.  297 

"Was  it  a  pleasant  experience?  " 

"  At  first ;  but "  -      She  hesitated. 

"Tell  me  all  about  it.  I  scent  something  ex- 
citing." 

"Oh,  it  was  exciting."  Marguerite  shuddered 
a  little  in  the  warm  air.  "I  suppose  I  mixed  our 
experience  with  Katherine's.  You  were  lifting 
me  above  the  waves,  and  it  was  great  sport  at 
first,  but  after  awhile  you  didn't  come  up,  and 
—  and  then  somehow  you  were  lying  on  the  sand 
—  and  they  said  you  were  dead,  and  I  had  done 
it,  you  know"  The  girl  bit  her  lip.  "It  was 
dreadful;  I  am  foolish  to  remind  myself.  In  the 
midst  of  the  misery  of  it,  while  the  Wise  Woman 
was  looking  at  me  with  awful  eyes,  I  waked. 
Oh,  such  a  relief;  but  all  the  same,"  the  girl 
paused,  and  a  fitful  smile  played  over  her  lips,  "I 
was  glad  to  see  you  just  now  standing  there  be- 
fore me  in  the  flesh." 

"I  apologize  humbly  for  making  myself  so  dis- 
agreeable. We  shall  have  to  repeat  yesterday's 
ducking,  and  wipe  out  the  impression." 

"I  don't  think  I  could  let  you,"  returned  Mar- 
guerite quickly. 

"Not  when  you  know  dreams  go  by  contra- 
ries?" asked  Jasper,  unreasonably  pleased  by  her 
solicitude. 

"Oh,  I  feel  as  if  the  shock  of  yesterday's  expe- 
rience had  brought  everything  to  a  standstill  for 
a  little  while,"  she  replied  evasively. 

"How  is  Miss  Katherine  this  morning?" 


298  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"I  haven't  seen  her  yet,  but  I  judge  she  is  feel- 
ing pretty  well." 

"No  need  of  me,  then?" 

"I  don't  know.     Shall  I  go  and  ask ?  " 

"No,  indeed.  Aunt  Edna  is  with  her,  I  be- 
lieve. I  told  her  I  would  follow  in  case  I  could 
do  anything." 

"Yes,  your  aunt  is  with  her,  and  I  have  been 
sitting  alone  out  here,  feeling  jealous." 

Dr.  McKnight's  smile  made  his  dark  face 
bright.  "Jealous  of  which  one?" 

"Surely,"  remarked  Marguerite,  "  that  con- 
fession of  mine  was  rather  cleverly  ambiguous, 
wasn't  it?  I  didn't  realize  it  when  I  made  it. 
It  will  be  more  interesting  to  let  it  remain  a 
conundrum." 

"But  I  always  guess  conundrums." 

Marguerite  only  smiled  at  Mr.  Hodgson,  who 
now  walked  around  by  the  piazza,  making  her 
cheeks  warm  by  the  curious  and  lingering  look 
which  he  bent  upon  the  unconscious  doctor's  back. 

"Oh,  good  morning,  Mr.  Hodgson,"  said  the 
latter,  lifting  his  hat,  as  the  old  man  passed  within 
his  range  of  vision. 

"Good  mornin',"  was  the  cheery  response. 
"Why  ain't  you  with  the  sick  one?  Ain't  nothin' 
wrong  with  Rita,  is  there?  " 

To  Marguerite's  supersensitive  ears  there  was 
something  direfully  significant  in  the  tone  of  this 
question. 

"I  don't  know,"  called  back  the  doctor  good- 


A    REPENTANT    CULPRIT.  299 

humoreclly.     "She  hasn't  let  ine  feel  her  pulse 

yet." 

This  answer  seemed  to  strike  Mr.  Hodgson  as 
unusually  good.  They  could  hear  him  chuckling 
aloud  as  he  moved  off. 

Jasper  turned  back  to  Marguerite,  and  found 
her  eyes  confronting  him  with  bright  serious- 
ness. 

"Knowing  that  you  and  Katherine  are  intimate 
friends,  and  that  you  have  n't  seen  her  since  yes- 
terday," he  said,  "it  doesn't  take  a  high  order  of 
intelligence  to  perceive  that  you  are  jealous  of  my 
aunt  for  getting  in  ahead  of  you  this  morning. 
See?" 

Marguerite  laughed  in  her  relief  that  he  had 
not  thought  twice  about  uncle  Silas.  "I  do  see 
that  you  are  a  very  clever  personage.  Accept  my 
congratulations. " 

"So  it  is  Katherine  you  are  jealous  of,"  said 
Jasper  in  a  different  tone.  "I  thought  so  all  the 
time.  I  mean  I  hoped  so;  but  I  wanted  to  make 
sure." 

Marguerite  colored.     "Why  did  you  hope  so?" 

"Oh,  because  I  like  to  have  you  fond  of  aunt 
Edna." 

"But  it  is  degrading  to  be  jealous  of  Kather- 
ine. She  came  first,  and  ought  to  come  first. 
Promise  me  you  won't  tell  the  Wise  Woman." 

"She  would  be  complimented." 

"No,  don't  tell  her;  I  am  not  joking  about  it. 
I  will  tell  you  one  other  thing,  a  real  secret  this 


300  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

time.  You  know  it  has  been  said  that  a  woman 
always  tells  a  secret  because  she  has  to  get  some 
one  to  help  her  keep  it." 

"I  've  a  positive  talent  for  keeping  secrets," 
averred  Jasper.  "Even  as  a  baby  I  refused  to 
cry  if  there  was  a  pin  sticking  into  me,  I  was  so 
instinctively  secretive." 

"Then  I  am  sure  I  can  trust  you.  It  is  only 
this;  that  I  am  jealous  by  nature." 

"I  can  sympathize,  for  I  am  another!  " 

"I  never  confessed  it,  even  to  Fritz;  but  that  is 
why  you  mustn't  betray  me  to  the  Wise  Wo- 
man." 

"Do  you  believe  love  can  exist  without  jeal- 
ousy?" asked  Jasper. 

Marguerite  hesitated  a  moment,  surprised. 
"Yes,"  she  replied  at  last. 

"But  I  am  talking  now  about  love  between  a 
man  and  a  woman." 

"So  am  I,  — yet  I  know  nothing  about  it." 

"Doesn't  the  fact  of  love  necessarily  include 
the  possibility  of  jealousy?"  persisted  Jasper. 

"Yes." 

He  gave  her  a  bright  look,  which  was  too  seri- 
ous for  smiles. 

"Yet  you  are  right,"  he  said.  "I,  too,  believe 
love  may  exist  without  jealousy." 

His  ardent  look  mastered  hers.  The  long  sec- 
onds passed,  and  he  did  not  speak,  and  her  wits 
seemed  paralyzed.  It  was  an  ineffable  relief  to 
her  when  the  screen  door  slammed  and  Gilbert 


A   REPENTANT   CULPRIT.  301 

Ormond  appeared.  He  had  hesitated  for  a  mo- 
ment, regarding  the  tableau  on  the  piazza,  before 
making  his  noisy  entrance. 

"Good  morning,  Jasper." 

"Good  morning,"  returned  McKnight,  lifting 
the  hat  which  had  set  negligently  back  from  the 
crisp,  dark  hair  above  his  forehead.  "I  hear  I 
have  no  business  over  here  this  morning." 

"No,  Katharine  is  all  right,  and  even  my  diges- 
tion is  getting  into  shape.  I  haven't  told  you 
before,  Miss  Marguerite,  —  I  did  n't  want  you  to 
lose  any  sleep  fretting  about  me, —  but  when  I  first 
came  down  here  the  last  coat  was  off  my  stomach, 
and  it  was  doing  its  work  entirely  in  its  shirt- 
sleeves." 

"Miss  Laird  hasn't  asked  me  to  sit  down,"  said 
Dr.  McKnight. 

"Oh,  please  do,"  said  the  girl,  at  ease  again. 

"  So  I  think  I  will  go  and  hunt  up  aunt  Edna. 
I  must  pay  my  respects  to  Miss  Katherine." 

When  he  had  gone  into  the  house,  Gilbert  sat 
down  in  a  chair  and,  staring  out  across  the  fields, 
appeared  to  fall  into  reverie. 

Marguerite  rocked  softly  in  the  hammock  and 
watched  him;  but  she  saw  him  no  more  than  he 
did  her. 

At  last  a  sigh  broke  from  him  which  recalled 
her.  "A  penny  for  your  thoughts,"  she  said. 

"You  would  think  you  made  a  poor  bargain  if 
I  sold  them,"  he  rejoined. 

"I  am  sorry  if  you  are  in  any  trouble,"  she 


302  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

returned,  after  a  moment  of  surprise  at  his  changed 
and  constrained  manner. 

"That  is  easy  enough,"  he  said  roughly. 

His  tone  astonished  and  hurt  her.  He  saw  it 
in  her  face. 

He  started  up,  approached  the  hammock,  and 
took  her  passive  hand  in  his. 

"I  won't  ask  you  to  forgive  me,"  he  said,  look- 
ing pale,  then  went  on,  unconscious  that  he  was 
driving  her  ring  into  her  finger.  "You  have  no 
right  to  forgive  me.  I  won't  be  such  a  fool  as  to 
ask  a  question  when  I  know  the  answer  to  it,  but 
I  'm  trying  to  turn  my  feeling  for  you  the  other 
side  out.  If  you  get  hurt  sometimes,  why,  that 
is  n't  much  for  you  to  bear. "  The  low,  quick  speech 
stopped.  He  released  her  hand,  swung  himself 
over  the  railing,  and  walked  off  across  the  field. 

Before  he  had  gone  far,  he  met  Mr.  Hodgson. 
"I  seen  ye  git  out  o'  that  piazza,"  said  the  old 
man,  nudging  him  and  chuckling.  "Three's  a 
crowd,  ain't  it,  hey?  Rita  says  that  there  doctor 
ain't  sparkin'  her.  Hain't  I  got  eyes?  He,  he, 
he !  Sticks  to  that  porch  of  our'n  like  a  sick  kitten 
to  a  hot  brick.  Rita  shets  me  up  and  " 

"Of  course,  of  course,"  interrupted  Gilbert. 
"Mum's  the  word.  It  isn't  the  thing  to  tease 
a  girl  like  that,  you  know.  Better  shut  right  up, 
just  as  she  says.  Don't  see  anything,  don't  hear 
anything.  That 's  the  best  way.  I  'm  trying  at 
it  myself.  Good-by,  I  'm  off  for  a  sail,"  and  he 
strode  away,  whistling. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

A   SIREN. 

THE  open  and  flattering  admiration  which  Gil- 
bert Ormond  had  exhibited  all  winter  toward 
Marguerite  Laird  had  seemed  to  her  the  reverse 
of  portentous.  Her  attitude  toward  him  in  return 
had  differed  from  her  treatment  of  other  men. 
Her  easy  responsiveness  had  never  misled  Gilbert, 
and  until  coming  to  Pokonet  this  summer,  he  had 
assured  himself  that  he  was  satisfied  with  her 
friendship. 

It  was  seeing  Jasper  McKnight  with  her,  and 
catching  with  the  quickness  of  jealousy  certain 
expressions  in  his  face,  which  caused  the  repressed 
flame  to  leap  up.  Gilbert  had  startled  Margue- 
rite grievously  just  now.  She  sat  quiet  after  he 
had  gone,  and  carefully  analyzed  her  own  past 
conduct.  Her  conscience  acquitted  her,  if  only 
on  the  proof  of  the  genuine  surprise  he  had  given 
her.  Lightning  could  not  have  been  more  un- 
expected out  of  a  clear  sky  than  such  looks  and 
words  from  the  perennially  gay  young  man. 

Strangely  enough,  Marguerite's  thoughts  did 
not  cling  long  to  Gilbert,  but  fled  to  Katherine. 
Could  the  latter  know  the  humility  and  timidity, 


304  '  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

equal  to  her  own,  which  filled  her  friend's  breast 
at  the  present  moment,  her  dread  of  confronting 
her  would  be  removed. 

Marguerite  recalled  the  never-to-be-forgotten 
look  on  Fritz's  face  yesterday,  there  by  the  Life 
Saving  Station.  The  new  idea  that  he  cared  for 
Katherine  had  excited  her.  She  had  not  forgot- 
ten his  declaration  of  the  past  autumn  that  he  had 
done  with  love.  Unimportant  as  such  an  asser- 
tion would  be  on  the  lips  of  most  young  men, 
with  Fritz  it  was  different.  So  wonted  was  she 
to  crediting  his  well-weighed  words,  she  was  far 
from  sure  yet  whether  yesterday's  radiant  look 
had  meant  more  than  an  expression  of  the  hearty 
and  exceptional  friendship  she  knew  he  felt  for 
Katherine. 

Supposing,  however,  that  the  most  a  man  can 
feel  for  a  woman  had  been  indicated  by  the  sig- 
nificant words  and  manner.  Hard  as  the  lesson 
would  be  in  the  beginning,  to  learn  to  take  second 
place  with  Fritz,  who  else  in  all  the  world  could  she 
so  willingly  see  in  the  first  as  her  sweet  and  gra- 
cious friend?  If  Fritz  wanted  Katherine,  he  must 
have  her.  Must  he?  Marguerite's  heart  quickened, 
and  her  color  came,  as  she  lay  there  alone  in  the 
hammock.  Katherine  doubtless  felt  for  Gilbert 
all  that  she  herself  did  for  Fritz.  She  had  the 
right  to  harbor  toward  Marguerite  all  the  grief 
and  resentment  which  the  latter  would  assuredly 
suffer  if  her  brother  were  doomed  to  disappoint- 
ment. 


A   SIREN.  305 

As  Marguerite  reflected  upon  this,  her  state  of 
mind  was  such  that  Katherine  might  have  ap- 
peared upon  the  piazza  with  a  manner  as  arrogant 
as  her  mother's,  and  Miss  Laird  would  not  have 
resented  it.  Marguerite  hoped  that  Gilbert  had 
not  made  a  confidante  of  any  of  his  family,  and 
she  did  not  believe  that  he  had.  If  he  would  only 
keep  up  the  good  work  of  concealment,  how  grate- 
ful she  should  be  to  him. 

When  Jasper  McKnight  entered  the  house  after 
leaving  Marguerite,  the  light  in  his  countenance 
was  good  to  see.  Madeline,  who  heard  his  voice 
inquiring  for  Katherine,  came  downstairs  to  re- 
ceive him. 

How  full  of  life's  gladness  his  face  looked.  She 
did  not  remember  ever  before  to  have  seen  him 
like  this. 

"Poor  fellow,  how  pleased  he  is  to  find  me!" 
she  thought,  as  he  gave  her  hand  an  extra  pres- 
sure. After  all,  there  was  nobody  like  Jasper. 
Madeline  felt  a  delicious  anticipation  of  a  life 
exactly  suited  to  her  tastes  and  ambitions,  as  she 
greeted  him.  What  mattered  the  Deweys  of  the 
world,  the  moths  who  fluttered  about  her?  Dr. 
McKnight  embodied  the  substantial  benefits  which 
she  demanded  of  the  future. 

"  And  I  used  to  consider  her  the  most  attractive 
girl  I  knew,"  Jasper  was  thinking  meanwhile.  A 
memory  of  some  of  his  aunt's  gently  satirical 
words  and  looks  came  back  to  him  vaguely,  as  he 
sat  listening  to  Madeline's  chatter. 


306  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"  Whatever  you  gave  Katherine  yesterday  acted 
like  magic,"  she  said,  as  they  sat  together  in  the 
old  low-ceiled  parlor.  "She  always  was  a  sleepy 
girl,  but  I  began  to  think  she  would  rival  the 
famous  seven;  and  she  seems  so  refreshed  and 
like  herself  this  morning,  only  blue.  You  don't 
know  how  odd  it  seems  to  have  Katherine  blue." 

"  Indeed  ?  Depression  is  a  symptom  with  such 
people.  Perhaps  I  could  help  her." 

"No;"  Madeline  shook  her  head  archly.  "It 
is  not  a  case  for  you.  Shakespeare  says  so  many 
clever  things  about  a  mind  diseased,  and  disor- 
dered looks,  and  all  that.  I  can't  remember  one 
of  them  to  quote,  I  never  can  when  I  want  to,  but 
any  way,  Katherine 's  mind  is  the  trouble.  She  is 
crushed  to  think  she  insisted  on  going  to  the  buoys 
against  Mr.  Sheldon's  advice,  and  then  made  such 
a  failure  of  it.  Mr.  Sheldon  is  the  only  physician 
she  needs.  She  is  in  ashes  now,  but  after  he  has 
forgiven  her,  she  will  rise  like  a  phoenix." 

"Her  recovery  is  certain,  then,"  returned  the 
doctor.  "Sheldon's  regard  for  your  sister  would 
stand  a  pretty  heavy  strain,  I  fancy."  He  smiled 
at  Madeline.  She  no  doubt  had  noticed  the  same 
signs  which  had  impressed  him. 

"Why,  of  course  Katherine  is  foolish  to  fret 
about  it,"  she  returned.  "You  men  like  to  for- 
give us,  don't  you?  You  enjoy  the  sensation  of 
superiority  it  gives  you.  Don't  deny  it." 

"It  takes  considerable  courage  to  contradict 
you,"  laughed  Jasper,  "but  if  you  want  candor,  I 


A    SIREN.  307 

must  express  a  doubt  as  to  whether  we  can  ever 
cheat  ourselves  into  even  a  momentary  belief  in 
our  superiority  to  a  conundrum  which  we  can 
never  solve." 

Madeline's  bright  eyes  regarded  him  curiously. 
"Are  we  girls  all  conundrums  to  you?  You  are 
not  all  conundrums  to  us." 

"I  should  say  not.  We  are  humbly  aware  that 
you  read  us  from  the  first  like  an  open  book." 

The  girl  laughed.  " '  You  do  protest  too  much. ' 
There,  that  's  Shakespeare,  and  I  'm  awfully 
proud  of  myself.  Some  of  you  are  anything  but 
open  books."  She  turned  serious.  "You,  for 
instance.  You  are  a  very  contradictory  person. 
I  don't  always  know  where  to  find  you." 

Supposably,  the  speaker  meant  this  assertion 
metaphorically;  but  Dr.  McKnight  had  some  ado 
to  avoid  all  betrayal  of  embarrassment.  He  was 
so  uneasily  conscious,  that  of  late  it  had  been  lit- 
erally true.  For  some  time  now  he  had  been  men- 
tally divided  between  self-gratulation  that  he  had 
never  gotten  in  any  deeper  with  pretty  Madeline, 
and  a  chivalrous  doubt  as  to  whether  he  was  treat- 
ing her  fairly.  He  was  aware  that  friends  had 
coupled  their  names,  and  he  only  hoped,  with  a 
sincerity  which  had  in  it  no  egotism,  that  she 
entertained  for  him  the  same  superficial  senti- 
ments which  he  had  discovered  to  be  the  extent 
of  his  own  regard  for  her. 

"Now,  you  cannot  pretend  that  I  am  a  problem 
to  you,"  added  the  girl,  lifting  her  chin  saucily. 


308  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Aren't  we  exceptions  to  the  rule?"  he  re- 
turned. "Our  lifelong  friendship  should  count 
for  something." 

"It  should  count  for  a  great  deal,"  answered 
Madeline,  with  a  gentle  change  of  manner.  She 
lowered  her  eyes.  The  time  had  come.  The  sur- 
roundings were  not  as  she  had  fancied  them.  It 
was  nearer  noonday  than  midnight.  The  moonlit 
beach  was  replaced  by  the  cool,  old-fashioned 
parlor,  but  there  was  something  not  unpicturesque 
in  its  quaintness.  She  was  not  too  excited  to  be 
conscious  of  her  own  effective  pose  in  the  big 
chintz  chair  where  she  nestled,  and  she  was  not 
clairvoyant  to  see  what  a  different  picture  obsti- 
nately presented  itself  to  her  companion's  mind, 
wherein  he  noted  that  a  cambric  waist  can  match 
in  color  a  pair  of  blue  eyes,  and  that  the  solitary 
daisy  clinging  against  said  waist  recalled  all  the 
pretty  things  he  had  ever  heard  about  innocence 
and  a  heart  of  gold. 

"It  —  it  does  count  for  a  great  deal,"  said  Jas- 
per, with  probably  more  awkward  hesitation  than 
his  manner  had  ever  been  guilty  of. 

Madeline  believed  that  he  needed  encourage- 
ment. 

"It  seems  odd  now  to  recall  the  time  when  you 
seemed  to  me  such  a  big  boy  to  admire  and  look 
up  to.  You  went  away  leaving  me  that  memory, 
and  then  one  day  came  back  a  man ;  not  —  not 
our  Jasper  McKnight  any  longer." 

The  young  doctor  would  have  needed  to  be  a 


A   SIREN.  309 

very  timid  lover  not  to  have  been  inspired  by  the 
manner  in  which  Madeline  finished  her  sentence. 

He  grew  very  uncomfortable,  and  laughed,  to 
hide  his  sensations.  "Grown  in  one  way,  but  how 
pitifully  dwindled  in  another,"  he  returned.  "Un- 
fortunately, the  little  girl  and  her  standards  had 
grown  too." 

"  Unfortunately?  "  Madeline  repeated  the  word 
with  sweet  and  lingering  reproach. 

"Why,  yes,  for  my  hope  of  inspiring  awe." 

"Is  that  the  feeling  you  are  ambitious  to 
arouse?"  The  girl  asked  the  question  with  a 
caressing  intonation,  and  shyly  lifted  her  eyes. 
"You  are  a  conundrum  to  me,"  she  returned, 
"and  I  am  tempted"  —what  a  delicious  pause  if 
(ah,  that  if!)  he  had  been  her  lover — "to  give 
you  —  up." 

Her  color  rose  softly,  and  she  was  bewitching. 
Dr.  McKnight  was  conscious  of  her  charm  in  a 
strange,  external,  regretful  way. 

He  felt  more  condemned  than  was  just.  What 
was  there  to  say?  He  took  desperate  refuge  in 
compliment,  his  one  consolation  being  that  it  was 
not  empty. 

"The  combination  of  you  and  that  chair  makes 
me  wish  myself  an  artist!"  he  exclaimed,  after  a 
pause.  "If  you  were  on  the  beach  now,  you 
would  not  need  to  exert  yourself  to  comb  your 
hair  and  sing;  we  should  have  some  brave  vessel 
stranded  inside  half  an  hour."  Madeline's  low- 
ered eyes  rose  to  his  with  a  nfiw  expression. 


310  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

For  him  the  siren's  spell  was  broken,  and  she 
perceived  it.  Once  more  he  felt  himself  equal  to 
the  situation.  "You  surprise  me,  Miss  Madeline, 
by  considering  me  a  conundrum.  I  really  don't 
deserve  the  implication  of  subtlety." 

The  girl's  fingers  tapped  the  flowered  arm  of 
her  chair.  Dr.  McKnight's  tone  enlightened  her 
more  unmistakably  than  his  words.  Her  revul- 
sion of  feeling  was  extreme,  and  her  nature  so 
undisciplined  that  it  was  a  question  how  service- 
able her  pride  would  be  to  her  in  this  exigency. 

"You  are  helping  me  to  understand  you  better," 
she  said.  "I  do  not  need  to  be  told  in  words 
that  you  are  not  the  friend  to  me  you  used  to  be. 
I  suppose  I  have  your  aunt  to  thank  for  that.  A 
Wise  Woman  undoubtedly.  It  is  not  for  me  to 
question  her  wisdom." 

"Miss  Madeline!  "  Dr.  McKnight's  tone 
sounded  shocked,  and  he  groaned  mentally.  She 
would  refuse  then  to  accept  a  tacit  and  peaceful 
ending  to  the  interview.  "I  hope  you  don't  really 
believe  that,"  he  added.  "It  isn't  true." 

Madeline  gave  a  little  laugh.  "What  less  could 
you  say?"  she  replied,  with  a  shrug.  "Oh,  well, 
we  have  had  a  very  good  time  together." 

"No  better  than  we  shall  have,  I  hope."  His 
tone  was  very  courteous,  and  although  the  posi- 
tion was  excessively  disagreeable,  it  was  not  mov- 
ing. The  sentiment  looking  out  of  Madeline's 
eyes  not  only  was  not  love,  it  could  not  be  con- 
cealing love. 


A    SfREN.  311 

"  I  believe  you  think  I  care  for  nothing  in  the 
world  but  flattery,"  she  said,  with  a  sudden  burst 
of  anger. 

"You  are  a  girl  whom  one  is  tempted  to  flat- 
ter," was  the  answer  she  received,  soft  enough  to 
turn  away  wrath;  yet  softness  was  not  indicated 
in  Jasper's  face  as  he  said  it. 

It  was  consistent  with  her  nature  that  he  should 
never  have  seemed  so  attractive  to  her  as  now 
when  he  was  subtly  and  inexorably  removed  from 
her.  She  did  not  deceive  herself;  she  knew  that 
if  there  ever  had  been  a  moment  when  she  could 
have  won  him,  the  moment  had  passed.  She 
would  never  be  Mrs.  Jasper  McKnight  of  Wood- 
row  Park.  It  was  a  name  she  had  lately  been 
fond  of  scribbling.  Impotent  grief  and  rage 
swelled  in  her,  and  there  he  sat,  dignified,  imper- 
turbable, affected  by  none  of  the  emotions  that 
tormented  her. 

In  the  little  pause  during  which  they  remained 
silent,  Mrs.  Ormoiid  came  to  the  door,  saw  them, 
and  would  have  withdrawn;  but  Jasper  was  not 
so  unperturbed  as  he  looked.  He  perceived  and 
grasped  at  her  as  a  drowning  man  at  a  straw. 

"Good  morning,  Mrs.  Ormond,"  he  said,  ris- 
ing precipitately  to  his  feet,  a  point  of  vantage 
he  had  been  longing  for,  and  which  he  now 
vowed  no  persuasions  should  induce  him  to  relin- 
quish. Mrs.  Ormond 's  quick  eye  detected  storm 
signals. 

"Come  and  take  my  part,"  he  added.      "Here 


312  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

is  your  daughter  accusing  me  of  one  thing  and 
another,  and  threatening  to  give  me  up." 

"Never  mind,  Jasper,"  returned  the  lady  gra- 
ciously, gliding  up  to  him,  and  depriving  him  of 
his  newly  tasted  sensation  of  freedom  by  slipping 
a  hand  through  his  arm.  Mrs.  Ormond  was 
charmed  to  discover  only  a  lovers'  quarrel,  and 
impatient  for  the  moment  to  bestow  her  blessing. 
"When  she  gives  you  up,  she  gives  me  up,"  she 
declared  gayly.  "We  stand  or  fall  together." 

Dr.  McKnight  would  at  that  moment  have 
exchanged  all  the  rest  of  his  sojourn  at  Pokonet 
for  the  safety  of  the  warmest  corner  in  Moii- 
taigne. 

"As  a  conundrum,  as  a  problem,  she  gave  me 
up,"  he  returned  hastily.  "Now  I  leave  it  to  you, 
Mrs.  Ormond,"  he  disengaged  himself  under  pre- 
tense of  jocosely  facing  her  for  inspection,  —  "I 
leave  it  to  you  if  I  am  an  intricate  individual." 

She  regarded  him  complacently.  "  I  understand 
you  well  enough,  my  dear  boy,"  she  answered 
affectionately. 

"Then  good-by,  Miss  Madeline,"  he  said,  with 
a  gay  show  of  triumph.  "I  will  leave  while  I  am 
in  favor." 

"Good-by,"  she  returned,  rising  languidly,  and 
meeting  his  look  with  a  little  satirical  smile. 

When  the  screen  door  had  slammed  after  him, 
her  mother  turned  to  her  with  a  laughing,  coaxing 
expression. 

"Tell  me  all  about  it,  you  spoiled  child,"  she 


A   SIREN.  313 

said,  with  a  little  affected  air  she  was  very  apt  to 
assume  when  Fortune  was  especially  flattering. 

Madeline  had  sunk  back  in  her  chair  dispirit- 
edly. She  regarded  her  mother  in  silence.  A 
sentiment  of  sincere  regret  for  her  helped  to  chain 
her  tongue. 

"You  are  a  silly  girl,  after  all,  Maidie.  The 
amusement  of  playing  fast  and  loose  in  this  in- 
stance may  be  dangerous." 

"I'm  sorry  for  you,  mother,"  was  the  only 
reply. 

"Madeline!"  Mrs.  Ormond  actually  turned 
pale.  Then  she  flushed  angrily.  "Was  that 
brave  fellow  hiding  something?  If  you  have  re- 
fused him,  too,  after  all  that  has  gone,  I  must  say 
it,  —  you  are  a  fool !  " 

The  girl  shook  her  head.  Her  fires  seemed  to 
have  burned  out.  "Better  not  call  names,"  she 
said.  "It  is  all  over." 

"If  you  don't  tell  me  what  you  mean,  I'll 
shake  you,"  ejaculated  her  mother  vigorously, 
seating  herself  near  and  putting  a  trembling  hand 
on  Madeline's  arm. 

The  girl  drew  back,  and  her  eyes  filled.  "  Have 
n't  I  told  you  enough?  Do  you  suppose  I  enjoyed 
the  scene  so  much  that  I  want  to  rehearse  it?" 

"But  I  can't  understand.  You  didn't  refuse 
him?  " 

"No." 

"Then  he  didn't  propose." 

Madeline  shook  her  head. 


314  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"What  of  it?  "  Mrs.  Ormond  asked  the  ques- 
tion with  a  nervous  energy  that  would  not  be  put 
off. 

"Everything-.  Everything  led  up  to  it.  If  he 
had  cared  anything  —  he  would  have.  Oh,  don't 
argue  it,  mother."  The  girl's  voice  rose  pain- 
fully. "I  have  seen  men  in  love.  Don't  you 
suppose  I  know?  " 

Mrs.  Ormond  sat  'back  in  her  chair,  and  they 
looked  at  each  other.  Madeline  was  the  first  to 
speak. 

"  I  am  sorry  you  had  set  your  heart  on  this.  It 
makes  it  awkward  and  hard."  The  girl  smiled 
with  a  shade  of  her  old  spirit.  "  But  I  am  Made- 
line Ormond  still,  and  you  are  not  in  a  hurry  to 
be  rid  of  me  at  any  price,  are  you? " 

Mrs.  Ormond  ignored  this.  "Did  you  get  any 
clue?  Is  there  anybody  else?  " 

"No  one,  so  far  as  I  know." 

"Then,  my  dear,  we  can't  tell  what  the  future 
may  bring."  Mrs.  Ormond  pressed  her  handker- 
chief to  her  eyes.  "I  am  so  fond  of  Jasper." 

Madeline  gave  a  cynical  smile.  "You  would 
better  consider  it  a  case  of  unrequited  affection," 
she  said.  "  I  have  been  patient  with  you,  mother, 
but  unless  you  conceal  all  yearning  for  Dr.  Mc- 
Knight  after  this,  I  promise  you  I  will  be  as  rude 
to  him  as  I  know  how." 

Mrs.  Ormond  knew  the  sincerity  of  this  quiet 
threat.  She  dropped  her  handkerchief,  and  be- 
came dejectedly  thoughtful. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 
"SWEETS  AND  SOURS." 

DINNER  must  inevitably  bring  the  members  of 
the  family  together,  so  Katherine  came  down- 
stairs a  little  before  the  hour  for  it. 

Reconnoitring  rather  timidly  through  the  door, 
she  observed  that  Fritz  had  returned  from  his 
morning's  work,  and  was  lounging  near  his  sister 
on  the  piazza. 

Marguerite  was  now  sitting  in  a  rocking-chair 
with  Mrs.  Hodgson's  stocking-bag  in  her  lap, 
and  darning  assiduously.  Katherine  perceived 
that  the  time  and  place  were  all  that  could  be 
desired  for  presenting  her  erring  self  and  getting 
her  humble  pie  neatly  disposed  of,  so  she  con- 
quered her  shrinking  and  pushed  open  the  screen 
door. 

Marguerite  looked  up  as  her  friend  appeared, 
but  Fritz  sprang  to  his  feet  and  came  to  meet 
her. 

The  girl  scarcely  smiled  as  she  put  her  hand  in 
his  outstretched  one. 

"You  still  feel  ill,"  were  his  first  words. 

"I  shall  until  you  have  accepted  my  apologies," 
she  answered  meekly.  "Marguerite,  you  are  wit- 


316  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

ness  to  my  solemn  promise  never  to"  —his  look 
embarrassed  her,  and  she  hesitated  —  "always 
to"- 

"You  hear,  Rita,"  said  Fritz,  "she  promises 
always  to  —  obey  me.  Is  n't  that  what  you  were 
going  to  say?  " 

"He  means  it,"  thought  Marguerite,  driving 
her  needle  with  a  nervous  movement  through  the 
largest  hole  in  Uncle  Silas'  sock. 

"In  the  water,  you  know,"  added  Katherine. 
"I  promise  to  obey  you  in  the  water.  The  next 
headstrong  proceeding  I  indulge  in  shall  be  on 
land.  I  swear  it."  She  drew  her  hand  away 
from  Fritz,  and  went  swif tly  to  his  sister.  "  I ' ve 
been  so  afraid  of  you,"  she  said  naively.  "I 
knew  you  would  look  at  it  just  as  I  did.  Forgive 
me,  please.  I  '11  promise  to  be  magnanimous  to 
you  some  time  when  you  put  Gilbert  in  a  hard 
place." 

Fritz  stood  unconsciously  smiling  as  he  watched 
them.  Katherine's  arms  were  about  Marguerite's 
neck,  and  her  cheek  pressed  to  hers.  He  did  not 
even  notice  the  color  that  surged  over  his  sister's 
face  at  this  exhortation ;  but  he  saw  her  hand  go 
up  to  Katherine's  clasped  ones,  and  saw  their  lips 
meet  in  a  kiss  of  peace. 

"Hello,  there  ye  are,  Kitty,"  said  Mr.  Hodg- 
son, with  much  satisfaction,  joining  the  group. 
"I've  been  lookin'  fer  ye.  It's  the  best  day's 
work  you  ever  did,  Fritz,  when  you  fetched  Kitti- 
wake  out  o'  the  water." 


"'SWEETS   AND    SOURS."  317 

"I  think  so,  too,"  answered  Sheldon,  as  the 
girl  released  Marguerite,  and  the  old  man's  rough 
hand  caressed  hers. 

"Poor  little  bird  with  her  wings  all  draggled," 
went  on  Mr.  Hodgson.  "When  they  brought  ye 
home  I  was  silly.  Ma  said  I  was;  but  I  knowed 
that  wa'n't  the  kind  o'  fun  you  come  to  Pokonet 
for.  Now  you  remember,  Kitty,  you  can't  trust 
that  old  ocean  only  jest  so  far.  Don't  you  go 
monkey  in'  round  exceptin'  jest  when  Fritz  is  with 
ye.  It  happened  lucky  yesterday." 

"I  've  been  promising  Mr.  Sheldon  not  to  mon- 
key around  when  he  is  with  me." 

"Well,  tha't's  all  right,"  returned  Mr.  Hodg- 
son, with  an  obstinate  air,  "but  Fritz  wants  to 
look  out  fer  ye.  Why,  ye  're  our  little  girl  Kitti- 
wake;  ye  know  that,  don't  ye?  When  they 
fetched  ye  home  yesterday  it  went  through  me 
like  a  knife.  I  'in  too  old  to  go  wallopin'  'round 
after  ye  now,  but  you  belong  to  Ma  and  me,  and 
so  does  Fritz.  So,  two  an'  two  makin'  four, 
Fritz  belongs  to  you,  and,  McKnight  or  no  Mc- 
Knight,  he  hain't  got  any  better  business  than 
to  go  'round  after  ye  and  see  't  ye  don't  git  into 
any  trouble." 

Katherine's  cheeks  reddened  under  this  em- 
phatic address,  for,  though  she  looked  at  the 
speaker,  she  felt  another  pair  of  eyes  upon  her. 

"You  are  exactly  right,  Uncle  Silas,"  said 
Sheldon.  "You  have  a  knack  of  getting  at  the 
kernel  of  things." 


318  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

The  old  man  looked  complacent,  and  patted 
Katherine's  shoulder. 

Marguerite's  heart  swelled  at  the  expression  on 
her  brother's  face,  and  the  threads  in  the  lattice 
she  was  weaving  ran  together  before  her  clouded 
vision. 

"Here  comes  Gilly,"  remarked  Mr.  Hodgson, 
looking  out  toward  the  field.  "Lobster,  Gilly," 
he  roared. 

"Where?"  returned  the  young  man  excitedly, 
beginning  to  race  toward  the  house,  and  not  paus- 
ing until  he  had  vaulted  over  the  rail  into  their 
midst,  where  he  struck  a  dramatic  attitude. 

"You  jest  f oiler  yer  nose,"  said  Mr.  Hodgson. 
"I  '11  back  ye  to  find  Ma's  lobster,  no  matter  how 
tight  she  covers  it.  There  's  the  bell,  now." 

As  they  were  moving  into  the  house,  Gilbert 
and  Marguerite  were  last  to  go  in.  He  held  the 
door  open  for  her,  and  met  her  eyes  gravely  as 
she  passed.  "I  am  duly  repentant,"  he  said. 

She  gave  him  a  gentle  look.  "Thank  you," 
she  answered. 

Mrs.  Ormond's  motherly  thoughts  were  not  so 
absorbed  in  Madeline's  affairs  that  she  had  not 
eyes  to  perceive  that  of  late  something  was  wrong, 
or  if  not  wrong,  at  least  changed,  with  her  idolized 
son.  The  difference  was  subtle,  but  she  felt  it 
all  the  same,  and  knew  it  was  not  a  desirable  one. 
Poor  Mrs.  Ormond.  The  world  was  not  turning 
around  to  suit  her  at  all.  Reproached  by  loving, 
easy-going  Katherine,  puzzled  and  worried  by  Gil- 


"SWEETS  AND  SOURS."  319 

bert,  so  vitally  disappointed  by  Madeline  that  she 
could  scarcely  grasp  the  fact,  little  wonder  that 
she  waxed  restless  and  longed  for  change. 

She  and  Gilbert  sat  alone  on  the  steps  of  the 
farmhouse  after  supper  that  evening,  and  she 
scrutinized  him  covertly.  "Aren't  you  growing 
tired  of  Pokonet?"  she  asked  after  a  silence, 
during  which  her  son  had  sat  apparently  deep  in 
thought. 

"Tired  of  it?"  he  returned,  rousing  himself. 
"Why,  no.  I  am  sure  there  is  no  better  place 
for  rest." 

"That  isn't  all  young  people  look  for  in  a  re- 
sort. I  should  think  you  would  want  more  recrea- 
tion than  you  can  find  in  this  dull  place." 

Gilbert  smiled.  "Do  you  think  I  should  pre- 
fer to  be  getting  ready  for  a  hop  at  some  hotel, 
rather  than  to  sit  here  and  watch  the  sunset  with 
you?" 

"It  would  be  very  natural  that  you  should." 

"You  don't  know  me,"  returned  the  young 
man,  deliberately  changing  his  posture  and  lying 
down  with  his  head  in  his  mother's  lap. 

Mrs.  Ormond's  hand  smoothed  his  hair. 
"What  do  you  all  see  in  Pokonet?"  she  asked 
plaintively. 

"Lots  to  see  here  this  year,"  he  answered. 
"We  're  gay.  Did  n't  you  know  it,  mother? 
Gay." 

"I  'm  not,  and  —  neither  are  you,  my  son." 

"Certainly  I  am.     I've  a  little  different  way 


320  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

of  showing  it,  perhaps,  from  ten  years  ago;  but 
you  ought  not  to  complain  of  that.  I  sha'n't 
carry  home  such  a  quantity  of  riddled  clothing." 

"You  have  something  on  your  mind,  Gilbert, 
and  I  would  give  anything  if  you  would  tell  me 
what  it  is." 

The  young  man  did  not  speak  at  once,  and 
when  he  did,  his  irrelevance  surprised  her. 

"Do  you  think  Madeline  is  a  flirt?" 

"My  dear!" 

"Do  you  think  she  purposely  draws  men  on  to 
their  doom?  I  've  seen  and  heard  things  in  a 
vague  way.  There  have  been  two  or  three  fellows 
come  to  grief  on  her  account.  Prides  herself  on 
it,  doesn't  she?" 

"What  girl  would  n't  enjoy  her  own  power  to 
charm?"  returned  Mrs.  Ormond  defensively. 

"Then  you  encourage  her,"  said  Gilbert  dryly. 
"  What  a  monstrous  thought." 

"My  son,  what  possesses  you?  You  are  not 
like  yourself." 

"No,  I  have  a  new  insight  into  some  things  of 
late,  and  it  has  made  these  questions  regarding 
Madeline  occur  to  me.  Decency  deters  a  girl 
from  talking  much  about  such  triumphs,  I  sup- 
pose, but  rumors  and  hints  of  Madeline's  have 
reached  me,  and  I  have  taken  it  indifferently 
enough.  Only  of  late  I  have  suspected  what  it 
means  to  care  for  a  girl,  and  to  know  that  it  is 
of  no  use.  It  occurred  to  me  how  savage  it  might 
make  a  man  to  find  that  while  he  had  been  in 


"SWEETS   AND   SOURS."  321 

earnest,  the  other  party  had  been  playing  him. 
I  wondered  if  Madeline  had  disgraced  herself  in 
that  way." 

"My  dear  boy,  you  don't  mean  what  you  are 
saying,  coupling  the  word  disgrace  with  your  sis- 
ter's name." 

"  I  do  couple  it  with  the  name  of  any  girl,  my 
sister  or  any  other  fellow's,  who  stoops  to  that 
sort  of  business.  How  should  you  feel  toward  a 
girl  whose  vanity  induced  her  to  make  that  sort  of 
victim  of  me?  Supposing  that  she  made  me 
think  of  her  the  last  thing  at  night  and  the  first 
in  the  morning;  that  she  led  me  on  until  every 
other  interest  of  my  life  was  merged  in  the  thought 
of  her  and  the  hope  of  spending  my  life  for  her 
and  with  her ;  and,  when  the  climax  was  reached, 
she  demurely  waked  me  to  the  bald  fact  that,  in 
spite  of  all  my  dreams,  I  was  nothing  to  her." 

"Gilbert,  is  this  true?"  Mrs.  Ormond's  voice, 
though  low,  was  sharp. 

"No.  '  S'posin'  a  case,  s'posin'  a  case,'  as 
Mr.  Hodgson  says." 

"I  don't  want  to  suppose  such  a  case.  It  gives 
me  the  heartache.  No  one,"  Mrs.  Ormond  leaned 
fondly  over  the  blond  head  in  her  lap,  —  "  no  one 
could  lead  you  on  like  that,  Gilbert.  You  would 
see  through  such  a  wretched  girl;  and  I  don't 
think,  my  dear,  it  is  very  brotherly  in  you  to 
suspect  poor  Madeline  of  such  cold-blooded  be- 
havior." 

Gilbert  was  silent  for  a  moment  before  speak- 


322  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

ing.  "  I  wish  she  had  a  direct,  honest,  unaffected 
manner  like  Marguerite's." 

"Indeed?  "  returned  Mrs.  Ormond  coldly.  "It 
would  be  strange  if  Madeline  Ormond 's  manner 
did  not  compare  favorably  with  Marguerite 
Laird's." 

"Not  for  a  moment,"  returned  Gilbert,  with 
exasperating  deliberation.  "  It  can't  compare  with 
it  for  a  moment.  I  am  a  plebeian  who  has  never 
had  the  advantage  of  mingling  with  members  of  the 
nobility,  but,  according  to  my  ideas  of  what  such 
a  thing  should  be,  Marguerite  Laird  has  the  true 
grand  air." 

Mrs.  Ormond  gave  a  short,  unmirthful  laugh. 
"It  is  strange  that  I  have  never  been  able  to  see 
the  marvelous  attractions  of  that  young  woman." 

"It  is  strange  how  you  have  always  disliked 
her." 

"I  don't  know  why  I  should  dislike  her,"  re- 
sponded Mrs.  Ormoud,  more  coldly  still. 

"I  wish,"  said  Gilbert  quietly,  "that  I  had 
inherited  that  taste  of  yours  along  with  the  shape 
of  your  nose  and  mouth." 

"It  isn't  necessary  to  dislike  her,"  responded 
his  mother,  rather  puzzled. 

"No;  but  it  would  be  comfortable." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Mrs.  Ormond 
in  sudden  alarm. 

"Nothing,  except  that  Marguerite  has  earned 
your  esteem  from  this  time  forth." 

"Gilbert  —  my  son,  you  are  making  my  heart 


"SWEETS   AND   SOUKS."  323 

palpitate.  Oh,"  with  an  apprehensive  groan, 
"that  girl!  Always  that  girl!  What  has  she 
done  now?" 

"  Nothing,  except  to  be  her  own  gracious,  grace- 
ful self." 

"  You  frightened  me  so !  I  feared  —  why,  you 
spoke  so  strangely,  I  actually  for  a  moment  had 
the  wild  thought  that  she  might  have  refused  you." 

"No,  I  wouldn't  put  her  to  that  annoyance." 

There  was  silence  for  half  a  minute  after  the 
simple  reply.  Mrs.  Ormond  was  mute  and  pale. 
At  last  she  spoke,  a  great  anxiety  clamoring  in 
her  breast  and  making  her  voice  unsteady. 

"You  know,  my  dear  son,  that  in  any  trouble 
of  yours,  from  the  smallest  to  the  greatest,  you 
can  be  sure  of  your  mother's  sympathy ;  but  are 
you  sure  —  how  can  you  be  sure  beforehand  of 
Miss  Laird's  feeling  for  you?  " 

"The  same  way  that  Madeline's  lovers  might 
have  been  sure  of  hers  for  them,  had  she  been 
true  and  unselfish." 

Mrs.  Ormond's  anxiety  changed  to  jubilation, 
which  made  her  deaf  to  the  slur  upon  her  pet. 
Here  was  one  bitter  cup  which  might  have  been 
hers,  but  from  which  she  had  escaped.  Her  only 
son  was  mad  enough  to  wish  to  give  her  this  most 
undesirable  daughter-in-law,  and  by  a  miracle  the 
girl  herself  held  back. 

"Surely,    then,    dear   boy,"    she    said    gently, 
"you  would  better  leave  Pokonet,  and  at  once." 
"No,  I  will  stay.     I  have  looked  the  situation 


324  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

in  the  face,  and  know  the  work  that  is  cut  out  for 
me.  I  '11  begin  it  right  here." 

"  I  would  keep  every  trial  from  you  if  I  could, 
dear,"  said  his  mother. 

He  smiled  as  he  patted  her  hand.  He  knew 
what  was  passing  in  her  mind. 

"You  can't  expect  all  your  children  to  marry 
to  suit  you,"  he  remarked.  "That  doesn't  often 
happen  in  families." 

"I  don't  suppose  I  can,"  she  answered,  willing, 
in  her  relief,  to  yield  to  this  vague  suggestion. 
"I  am  sure  I  have  had  a  great  deal  of  anxiety 
about  Madeline,"  she  added  plaintively.  "Have 
you  seen  anything  to  criticise  in  her  treatment  of 
Jasper  McKnight?  " 

"  No.  When  he  seemed  to  be  the  leading  gen- 
tleman last  winter,  I  had  not  passed  into  the  criti- 
cal stage." 

"But  I  mean  this  summer  —  down  here." 

Gilbert  gazed  off  into  the  twilight.  "  Oh,  here, 
Madeline's  fluttering  and  twittering  didn't  matter 
much  either  way.  Jasper  has  a  talisman  which 
makes  him  invulnerable." 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean." 

"Then  I  can't  tell  you,  mother,"  rejoined  the 
young  man,  with  a  sigh. 

Mrs.  Ormond  would  have  liked  to  pursue  the 
subject,  for  Gilbert's  assertion  roused  her  curios- 
ity ;  but  the  thought  of  Madeline  restrained  her, 
and,  after  all,  Gilbert  could  do  nothing  to  alter 
existing  circumstances. 


"SWEETS  AND  SOURS."  325 

"I  am  quite  ready  to  go  away  from  Pokonet," 
she  remarked,  echoing-  the  sigh. 

Nevertheless,  the  next  morning  found  her  in 
her  accustomed  place  on  the  beach,  which  was 
quite  populous  now  at  this  hour.  She  sat  in  the 
sand,  leaning  against  her  wooden  support,  shield- 
ing her  head  with  her  parasol,  and  regarding  the 
scene  rather  listlessly. 

Only  when  her  eyes  encountered  Marguerite, 
their  expression  changed.  It  did  not  increase 
Mrs.  Ormond's  regard  for  the  girl  to  dwell  upon 
the  thought  that  the  latter  was  aware  of  Gilbert's 
passion  for  her.  On  the  contrary,  each  time 
Marguerite  in  her  white  sailor  hat  passed  within 
her  range  of  vision,  vexation  and  humiliation 
made  tumult  in  her  heart,  in  spite  of  the  con- 
stantly recalled  fact  that  things  might  have  been 
much  worse. 

"Glorious  morning,  Mrs.  Ormond,"  said  a 
hearty  voice  beside  her,  to  the  accompaniment  of 
the  breaking  waves. 

She  looked  up,  and  saw  Dr.  McKnight.  The 
sight  was  scarcely  more  agreeable  than  Miss 
Laird's  fair,  unconscious  face. 

"Oh,  good  morning.  If  a  cloud  would  pass 
over  the  sun,  it  would  be  a  relief  to  the  eyes." 

"It  is  dazzling."  He  dropped  down  on  the 
sand  beside  her.  "It  seems  to  me  our  people  are 
lazy  about  going  in  this  morning." 

"Yes;  but  there  is  quite  a  sea  on."  Mrs. 
Ormond  made  a  heroic  endeavor  to  address  the 


326  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

new-comer  with  exactly  her  usual  manner;  but 
he  must  have  been  preoccupied  if  he  did  not  re- 
mark that  something  of  the  maternal  accent  had 
departed  from  her  tone. 

"When  your  daughters  stay  out,  I  think  it  may 
be  discouraging  to  a  good  many  timid  ones." 
Some  unavowed  sensation  of  delinquency  made 
Jasper  desirous  of  establishing  himself  in  his 
friend's  good  graces  this  morning,  and  his  manner 
was  a  nice  combination  of  frankness  and  deference. 

"That  is  quite  unnecessary,  I  am  sure,"  re- 
turned Mrs.  Ormond.  "The  girls  have  always 
been  very  capricious  about  it,  and  go  in  or  not, 
just  as  they  happen  to  feel." 

"Miss  Madeline  seems  to  have  found  a  safe 
way  of  going  to  sea."  Dr.  McKnight  smiled  as 
he  looked  off  a  few  rods  to  where,  in  a  boat  drawn 
up  on  the  beach,  Madeline  and  Mr.  Dewey  sat 
and  chatted. 

Mrs.  Ormond  did  not  deign  an  answer.  He 
had  forfeited  the  right  to  speak  Madeline's  name. 

"Good  morning.  Why  this  lack  of  enter- 
prise? "  added  Jasper,  starting  to  his  feet  as 
Katherine  and  Marguerite  approached,  arm  in 
arm. 

Mrs.  Ormond  glanced  disapprovingly  at  the 
three  happy  faces  as  greetings  were  exchanged, 
and  then  all  sat  down  again  in  the  sand. 

"Will  you  kindly  move  a  little  to  one  side, 
Miss  Marguerite,"  she  said,  at  no  pains  to  sweeten 
her  tone.  "I  was  watching  the  bathers." 


"SWEETS   AND   SOURS."  327 

"Oh,  excuse  me,"  exclaimed  the  girl,  precipi- 
tately changing  her  position  to  Jasper's  other 
side. 

"What  has  happened  to  annoy  mother?" 
thought  Katherine;  but  by  this  time  she  had 
hardened  herself  to  bear  the  brusque  manner  in 
which  Mrs.  Ormond  treated  her  friend  at  most 
unexpected  times  and  seasons.  She  had  a  half- 
uneasy  sense  of  Marguerite's  estimate  of  her  mo- 
ther, and  in  her  loyal  love  for  the  latter,  it  was  a 
regret  to  her. 

"But  in  this  world  one  cannot  ha^e  every- 
thing," mused  Katherine;  and  this  conclusion,  as 
well  as  her  happy  face,  blooming  each  day  into 
greater  attractiveness,  went  to  prove  that  what- 
ever minor  satisfaction  might  be  lacking,  life  was 
giving  her  much. 

"I  have  just  been  calling  you  timid,"  said  Jas- 
per to  Marguerite,  "because  you  don't  take  a 
dip." 

"A  great  mistake,"  she  replied  gayly.  "You 
selected  the  wrong  girl.  Katherine  quakes  this 
morning  when  she  even  looks  at  the  waves.  I  am 
staying  out  merely  to  keep  her  in  countenance." 

"I  deny  the  quaking,"  remarked  Katherine. 
"Call  me  lazy,  and  I  will  admit  it  at  once.  I 
like  to  see  other  people  make  an  exertion  this 
morning.  Did  you  ever  race  sand-fleas,  Dr.  Mc- 
Knight?" 

Upon  Jasper's  disclaiming  any  such  sporting 
experience,  the  girl  drew  a  circle  in  the  sand, 


328  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

making  a  slight  depression  in  the  centre  of  the 
miniature  arena. 

"Choose  your  flea,"  she  said,  her  own  hand 
coming  down  upon  a  good-sized  specimen  of  the 
semi  -  transparent  little  creatures  bounding  and 
burrowing  about  them. 

"Which  are  the  swifter,  the  large  ones  or  the 
small?"  inquired  the  doctor  seriously. 

"As  if  I  should  tell  you!  Marguerite,  do  you 
want  to  come  into  the  race?" 

"Not  if  I  have  to  pick  up  one  of  those  tiny 
lobsters  in  my  hand." 

"Then  stay  out,  faint-heart.  Who  called  me 
timid  a  few  minutes  ago?  Now  put  your  flea 
right  in  the  middle  of  the  circle,  Dr.  McKnight, 
beside  mine,  and  the  one  that  jumps  across  the 
line  first,  wins.  I  tell  you  beforehand,  mine  is  a 
regular  kangaroo.  I  saw  it  in  his  eye  when  I 
picked  him  up.  Marguerite,  you  are  my  mascot, 
and  mother,  you  will  be  Dr.  McKnight' s.  Here, 
come  out  of  there ! "  this  to  her  flea,  who  re- 
mained, apparently  in  reverie,  in  the  valley  out  of 
which  his  companion  was  energetically  struggling. 

Mrs.  Ormond  darted  a  withering  glance  at  the 
crown  of  her  child's  sailor  hat.  She,  sore  with 
injuries  of  Jasper  McKnight's  inflicting,  to  be 
flippantly  dubbed  his  mascot  in  an  idiotic  flea 
race !  It  was  too  much. 

"He  's  coming,  Katherine,"  said  Marguerite, 
with  enthusiasm.  "Now,  now!"  for  the  tardy 
insect  cleared  his  way  with  a  short  leap  half  way 


"SWEETS   AND    SOURS:'  329 

to  the  encircling  ring.  Once  there,  however,  his 
energy  appeared  spent,  and  he  remained  motion- 
less, staring  with  starting  eyes  seaward. 

"Didn't  you  ever  notice  the  ocean  before?" 
Katherine  demanded  of  him.  "It's  been  there 
all  the  time.  Oh,  go  on,  you  old  gravel-train!  " 

This  apostrophe  appeared  to  have  an  effect,  for 
the  flea  jumped,  but  short  of  the  mark;  while 
Jasper's  cleared  the  boundary  with  a  flying  leap. 

"Hurrah  for  our  side!"  said  the  doctor,  wav- 
ing his  hat.  Mrs.  Ormond  could  not  refuse  the 
hand  he  offered  her  in  gratitude  for  her  services. 

Madeline  and  her  admirer  had  left  the  boat 
meanwhile,  and  after  standing  half  a  minute  in 
close  conversation,  they  parted.  Madeline  came 
up  to  her  friends  just  as  her  mother  and  Jasper 
were  apparently  exchanging  congratulations. 

"Your  mother  is  a  most  efficient  mascot,  Miss 
Madeline,"  he  announced,  and  the  girl  regarded 
the  signs  in  her  mother's  flushed  face  with  curi- 
osity. At  any  rate,  Mrs.  Ormond  was  putting 
a  most  commendable  restraint  upon  herself,  and 
her  youngest  smiled  approvingly  as  she  sank  upon 
the  sands  beside  her. 

"Why  didn't  Mr.  Dewey  come  and  bid  us 
good  morning?"  asked  Mrs.  Ormond  hastily,  to 
prevent  any  inquiries  Madeline  might  be  led  into 
making. 

"He  has  to  go  home  and  pack." 

"Going  away?" 

"Yes;  the  old  story,  business.     He  is  so  dis- 


330  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

gusted,  and  so  am  I,"  added  Madeline,  for  she 
and  her  mother  were  practically  tete-a-tete.  Dr. 
McKnight  having  turned  again  toward  his  girl 
companions.  "He  was  lots  of  fun,"  went  on 
Madeline  regretfully.  She  looked  thoughtfully 
out  to  sea  a  minute,  then  added:  "Why  do  we 
stay  in  Pokonet  any  longer?" 

"I  am  quite  ready  to  go,"  returned  Mrs.  Or- 
mond  promptly  and  impressively.  "I  can  only 
regret  that  we  came  at  all." 

"But  look  at  Katherine,"  remarked  Madeline. 
"Did  you  ever  see  anything  like  the  way  she 
flourishes  here?" 

"She  would  be  just  as  well  elsewhere,"  rejoined 
Mrs.  Ormond  shortly.  She  looked  critically,  not 
at  her  elder,  but  at  her  younger  daughter.  She 
had  so  long  taught  herself  to  believe  that  Made- 
line regarded  Dr.  McKnight  as  she  wished  her 
to,  that  she  looked  upon  her  present  indifference 
in  wonder.  How  could  it  be  that  recent  events 
had  made  so  little  impression  upon  the  girl  that 
she  could  sit  here  within  a  stone's  throw  of  Jas- 
per, and  apparently  forget  his  existence.  To  the 
mother's  eyes  the  pretty  face  bore  evidence  of 
strain.  All  pleasant  excitement  and  vivacity  had 
for  the  moment  died  out  of  it,  and  left  the  eyes 
listless  and  the  lips  drooping. 

"Let  us  leave  Pokonet,"  said  Mrs.  Ormond 
abruptly. 

Madeline  returned  her  look  with  a  curious  ex- 
pression. "Yes,  all  in  good  time,"  she  answered, 


"SWEETS  AND  SOURS."  331 

in  a  low  voice.  She  glanced  at  Dr.  McKnight's 
back.  "It  wouldn't  do  to  go  immediately,"  she 
added. 

Mrs.  Ormond  followed  the  direction  of  her 
glance  with  just  indignation.  That  young  man 
might  learn  to  know  himself  better  after  they  had 
gone  away.  She  drew  a  sudden  and  gratifying 
mental  picture  of  Jasper  McKnight,  pensively 
musing  on  the  fact  that  a  subtle  charm  of  land 
and  sea  had  departed  with  Madeline  Ormond. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE   BONFIRE. 

uDo  you  know  how  you  are  wasting  time?" 
asked  Fritz  Sheldon,  coming  into  the  Hodgsons' 
sitting-room  one  evening,  and  finding  the  family 
assembled.  Miss  McKnight  and  her  nephew  were 
also  present.  Sheldon  and  his  employer  had  re- 
turned that  day  from  a  two  weeks'  stay  in  New- 
ark, and  in  their  respective  ways,  each  was  joyful 
to  be  back  again. 

"There  's  a  bit  of  a  moon,  I  don't  say  it  gives 
much  light,"  continued  Fritz,  taking  from  his 
pocket  the  bunch  of  letters  he  had  just  brought 
from  the  post-office.  For  an  absent-minded  man, 
he  showed  remarkable  forethought  in  transferring 
the  one  addressed  to  Katherine  to  the  bottom  of 
the  pile,  so  that  in  their  distribution  she  came 
last,  and  he  naturally  took  a  seat  near  her.  "  But 
this  is  no  evening  to  stay  in  the  house,  it  is  so 
pleasant  and  clear.  I  have  been  busy  nearly  all 
day,  and  I  want  to  play.  What  do  you  say  to 
building  a  bonfire  on  the  beach?" 

"Come  on,"  said  Gilbert,  springing  up  with 
alacrity. 

"I'm  sure  it  must  be  damp,"  objected  Mrs. 


THE   BONFIRE.  333 

Ormond,  who  had  been  so  far  watching  in  vain 
for  an  opportunity  to  secure  an  interview  with 
Katherine  and  Gilbert.  She  and  Madeline  had 
been  reading  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Allington,  and 
found  it  to  contain  an  urgent  invitation,  so  allur- 
ing that  she  could  not  wait  to  have  the  matter 
settled  with  the  others.  Even  though  Gilbert 
had  expressed  his  desire  to  remain  in  Pokonet, 
she  thought  it  more  than  likely  that  this  definite 
plan  would  attract  him. 

But  now  the  room  was  in  a  pleasant  tumult. 
Only  Madeline  looked  doubtful  and  a  trifle  bored. 
The  element  which  would  have  lent  spice  to  the 
episode,  namely,  a  masculine  admirer,  was  lack- 
ing. Fritz  Sheldon,  in  spite  of  his  promising 
external,  she  had  decided  was  come  to  be  a  most 
prosaic  and  poky  individual.  Very  likely  she  her- 
self had  had  a  large  share  in  making  him  so,  but 
the  fact  remained.  As  for  Jasper  —  Madeline 
resolutely  turned  away  from  the  thought  of  Jasper. 

"You  are  coming,  of  course,  Miss  Madeline," 
he  said,  breaking  in  upon  her  doubts  with  a  smile 
and  that  air  of  repressed  exhilaration  which  she 
had  perceived  in  him  of  late. 

"He  shall  not  think  I  am  moping,"  she  thought. 
"Oh,  yes,  I  am  going,"  she  answered  gayly,  skip- 
ping away  to  get  her  wraps. 

"You  are  coming,  too,  Aunt  Edna,"  continued 
the  young  man. 

"Not  unless  I  am  abducted,  my  dear.  I  am 
past  the  age  that  finds  any  warmth  in  starlight." 


334  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"You  will  allow  us  to  go  unchaperoned ? "  he 
said,  turning  laughingly  to  Mrs.  Ormond. 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  in  a  tone  to  which  he  was 
unaccustomed.  "  I  have  such  confidence  in  your 
discretion,  Jasper,  that  I  do  not  consider  that 
any  company  which  includes  you  requires  another 
chaperon."  Then  with  a  lighter  manner  she  ad- 
dressed Miss  McKnight.  "It  should  be  a  part 
of  our  vacation,  don't  you  think  so,  Edna,  not  to 
have  to  play  propriety?" 

The  young  people  started  off  in  a  jolly,  strag- 
gling bunch,  across  the  field.  Katherine,  with  a 
quick  movement,  stepped  forward  and  slipped  her 
arm  through  her  brother's. 

"Hello,"  he  said,  looking  around  at  her,  "have 
I  drawn  you,  Kitty?" 

"Yes,  aren't  you  satisfied?"  She  laughed 
happily  from  the  sweet  inner  consciousness  that 
another  wanted  her  more. 

"Who  is  ever  satisfied?"  he  returned,  but  he 
gave  her  arm  a  little  squeeze. 

"No  wonder  you  wanted  to  get  us  out  of  the 
house,  Mr.  Sheldon,"  said  Madeline.  "What  a 
glorious  summer  night." 

Fritz  turned  to  reply  to  her,  and  Dr.  McKnight 
seized  his  opportunity  to  fall  in  by  Marguerite's 
side. 

"So  little  wind,"  said  Jasper  contentedly;  "just 
the  night  for  a  bonfire." 

"If  there  happens  to  be  plenty  of  driftwood," 
returned  the  girl. 


THE   BONFIRE.  335 

"And  if  there  doesn't,"  the  speaker's  teeth 
flashed  in  the  moonlight,  "we  shall  be  just  as  well 
satisfied." 

"Oh,  is  that  your  optimistic  frame  of  mind? 
You  must  speak  for  yourself.  I  want  a  fire." 

Madeline  and  Fritz  followed  after.  She  was 
thinking  what  it  would  once  have  been  to  him  to 
walk  through  this  field  with  her  under  the  clear 
stars.  How  strange  that  he  should  have  become 
so  stupidly  uninteresting ;  there  was  really  no  more 
piquancy  in  a  tete-a-tete  with  him  than  there 
would  be  with  Gilbert.  Repress  all  recollection 
as  she  would,  however,  she  suffered  from  pique 
and  hurt  vanity  at  the  sight  of  Dr.  McKnight. 
He  had  seemed  to  enjoy  himself  quite  as  well  with 
Marguerite  Laird,  of  late,  as  he  had  ever  done  with 
herself.  His  laughter  came  back  to  her  now,  and 
its  heartiness  brought  a  pang.  He  had  no  regrets. 

"The  time  may  come,"  thought  Madeline  con- 
temptuously, "when  Marguerite  will  dislike  to 
hear  that  laugh,  too.  He  likes  to  amuse  himself 
with  her  now,  but  he  doesn't  mean  to  entangle 
himself  with  anybody." 

They  found  the  driftwood,  and  made  their  fire. 
The  flames  mounted  high,  their  roar  lost  in  the 
crash  and  hiss  of  the  surf,  and  the  company  sat 
about  in  the  fitful  light. 

"Are  you  satisfied?"  asked  Jasper  of  Margue- 
rite. He  was  stretched  on  the  sand  beside  her,  in 
a  position  to  lose  nothing  of  the  revealing  gleams 
that  flashed  across  her  face. 


336  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"It  is  fine.  I  wish  the  Wise  Woman  had 
come." 

"She  could  not  have  left  her  friend.  Mrs. 
Ormond  would  have  had  to  come,  too,"  said 
Jasper;  and  after  a  hesitating  pause  they  both 
laughed,  like  two  children. 

"I  still  wish  for  the  Wise  Woman,"  declared 
Marguerite  firmly.  "We  would  have  kept  her 
on  our  side  of  the  fire  " 

"I  see,"  returned  Jasper,  as  she  waited,  "and 
let  the  others  have  Mrs.  Ormond.  That  is  a  fair 
division.  There  are  four  of  them." 

"You  shouldn't  be  so  observing,"  said  Margue- 
rite, after  another  pause.  "I  didn't  know  that 
others  noticed  her  disapproval  of  me." 

"I  have  grown  to  be  observing  where  you  are 
concerned." 

The  breeze  sent  a  rosy  gleam  over  the  girl's 
face.  She  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "I  never 
enter  a  room  where  she  is  but  that  she  makes  me 
feel  that  I  ought  to  say,  '  Excuse  me  for  living. ' ' 

"Of  course,  you  know  she  is  jealous  of  you." 

"No,  I  don't  think  that,"  replied  Marguerite 
quietly,  setting  aside  the  implied  compliment. 
"Fritz  has  reminded  me  that  Mrs.  Ormond  has 
an  important  redeeming  characteristic.  She  is 
Katherine's  mother.  I  always  keep  that  in  mind, 
now." 

"And  Katherine  is  a  very  important  person," 
said  Jasper  significantly. 

"She  is  my  best  friend,"  returned  Marguerite. 


THE   BONFIRE.  337 

"  Is  that  all  you  want  me  to  see  ?  "  Jasper  looked 
over  at  the  quartette.  Katherine  still  kept  close 
to  Gilbert ;  but  guarding  her  other  side  was  Fritz. 

Marguerite  changed  her  position  and  smiled 
faintly.  "You  remember  the  secret  I  told  you 
once  about  myself?" 

"That  you  were  jealous?  " 

"Yes.  Well,  the  green-eyed  monster  gives  me 
some  trouble  of  late.  I  know  it  is  ungrateful  — 
selfish  —  wrong ;  but  there  is  only  one  Fritz,  and 
he  has  always  belonged  to  me." 

"That  is  what  aunt  Edna  says;  "  Jasper's  tone 
changed  and  he  spoke  slowly.  "She  says  Fritz 
fills  your  heart  and  eyes  to  such  an  extent  that 
you  do  not  see  or  consider  other  men.  Such  devo- 
tion to  a  brother  is  unusual — fortunately."  He 
gave  a  short  laugh.  "You  see  I  have  no  sister 
to  idealize  me." 

Marguerite's  heart  moved  a  little  quicker.  "I 
don't  idealize  Fritz.  I  see  his  faults,  I  "  — 

"Yes,  but  faults  or  virtues,  it  is  still  Fritz," 
exclaimed  Jasper  impetuously;  "he  is  all  you  see, 
when  I  am  waiting  and  longing  to  have  you  see 
me."  He  lifted  himself  on  his  elbow  and  looked 
into  her  face. 

"Oh,  I  am  perfectly  aware  of  you,  Dr.  Mc- 
Knight,"  —began  the  girl,  in  a  low  voice. 

"Perfectly? "  he  interrupted.  "Then  you  know 
that  I  love  you,  Marguerite.  I  love  you  "  —  He 
stopped  suddenly,  then  went  on  eagerly,  "Will 
you  come  and  walk  on  the  beach?" 


338  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"No,  stay  here,  please."  He  had  half  risen, 
holding  out  his  hand  to  her. 

"  But  we  are  not  alone.  Madeline  Ormond  is 
watching  us." 

"She  cannot  hear  us,"  returned  Marguerite, 
who  was  trembling  a  little.  "You  have  spoken 
now,  and  you  must  be  answered  now." 

"No,  no,  not  yet.  I  spoke  too  soon.  I  should 
have  waited  until  Fritz  was  further  out  of  the 
field.  You  have  not  thought  of  me." 

"Yes,  I  have  thought  of  you."  Jasper  felt  a 
sudden  access  of  hope  at  the  tone.  "I  have  — 
suspected  what  you  tell  me."  The  gentle  clear- 
ness of  her  voice,  in  spite  of  the  evident  effort  it 
was  to  speak,  filled  her  lover  with  a  wild  desire 
to  kiss  the  hands  lying  loosely  on  her  knee,  but 
he  felt  Madeline's  curious  eyes  upon  him.  The 
white  foam 'hissed,  and  spread  nearer  and  nearer 
to  the  leaping  fire,  and  the  "wh'sh,  wh'sh  "  of  the 
bare  feet  of  the  patrolman  and  the  thud  of  his 
stick  sounded  monotonously  across  the  shadowy, 
wet  beach.  "I  thought  at  one  time  I  should  be 
worthy,"  she  went  on,  "but  on  searching  myself 
I  found  out  my  mistake." 

Jasper  had  been  listening  breathlessly.  "My 
darling!"  he  exclaimed.  He  rose  on  one  knee. 
"Come,  let  us  come  away." 

"No,  no,"  uttered  Marguerite,  with  a  little 
gasp.  "Right  here.  You  have  not  heard  me, 
heard  my  reasons." 

"And  I  cannot.     I  am  too  happy." 


THE   BONFIRE.  339 

"Oh,  wait;  you  have  no  cause  to  be  happy. 
You  must  listen.  It  was  not  you  I  cared  for." 

Jasper  became  rigid.  "There  is  some  one 
else?" 

"  Yes ;  I  found  out  that  I  was  deceiving  myself. 
It  was  sweet  to  think  you  cared,  —  but  that  was 
because  I  had  learned  that  Fritz  was  leaving  me, 
and  I  was  so  lonely  deep  down  in  my  heart.  That 
was  one  of  the  things  that  made  me  believe  I 
cared  for  you.  It  was  n't  you,  you  see,  it  was  the 
being  first  to  somebody  that  was  so  consoling,  and 
—  and  deceptive." 

"I  understand;  but  I  am  willing,  Marguerite, 
willing  to  be  a  makeshift."  Jasper's  fear  was 
removed,  and  he  spoke  eagerly  again. 

"But  that  is  not  all." 

"Ah,  I  wish  it  were,"  he  ejaculated. 

"I  owe  it  to  you  to  be  perfectly  frank,  and 
there  were  other  things  that  proved  to  me  how  far 
my  feeling  was  from  that  which  you  deserved.  I 
loVe  "  - 

"Oh,  Marguerite!"  involuntarily. 

"The  Wise  Woman  " - 

"Heavens!"  amazedly. 

"So  much,  that  it  is  a  great  temptation  to 
belong  to  her." 

Dr.  McKnight's  heart  began  beating  again  in 
its  rightful  place.  "  Any  thing  else  ?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  your  position;  your  money;  your  home. 
They  all  attracted  me." 

"  Then  take  them,  in  mercy ! "  he  returned 
tenderly. 


340  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"How  can  you  suggest  it?"  exclaimed  Margue- 
rite, tears  in  her  voice. 

The  firelight  showed  her  her  lover's  face,  dark, 
yearning,  yet  half  smiling.  "You  can't  overlook 
these  —  these  obstacles?"  he  asked  gently. 

"You  do  not  take  what  I  say  seriously,"  re- 
turned the  girl.  "I  am  earnest.  Let  us  forget 
all  that  has  been  said,  and  never  refer  to  the  sub- 
ject again." 

"Marguerite!  "  His  voice  had  a  tone  that 
stirred  her.  "It  is  the  one  thing  in  my  life  that 
I  never  can  forget.  Forgive  me,  if  my  hope  will 
not  die.  I  may  live  down  these  objections.  I 
won't  trouble  you,  dear.  I  will  try  not  to." 

The  girl  drew  a  long  breath.  "I  have  been 
honest.  He  will  not  be  deceived,"  she  thought, 
and  she  was  just  going  to  warn  him  again  that  she 
had  considered  maturely,  when  a  shriek  and  laugh 
from  their  neighbors  announced  that  the  tide  had 
crept  upon  them  unawares. 

The  fire  died  down.  It  had  burned  bravely. 
The  patrolman  plodded  by  and  they  hailed  him. 
The  wind  sprang  up  and  they  all  blew  home  before 
it;  but  Gilbert  did  not  have  Katherine's  company 
going  back. 

Mrs.  Ormond  and  Miss  McKnight  were  sitting 
in  the  same  place  when  the  young  people  came 
breezily  into  the  room.  The  former  had  been 
enjoying  herself,  for  she  had  been  descanting  to 
her  friend  on  the  charms  of  the  Allingtons'  sum- 
mer home  at  Bar  Harbor,  and  reading  to  her  the 


THE   BONFIRE.  341 

cordial  invitation  which  had  arrived  for  Mrs. 
Ormond  and  all  her  brood.  She  was  determined 
that  Edna  McKnight  should  know  the  considera- 
tion in  which  she  and  her  children  were  held  by 
such  people. 

Miss  McKnight  had  confined  herself  to  looking 
interested,  nodding  assent  at  intervals,  and  Mrs. 
Ormond  had  worked  herself  to  a  pitch  of  energetic 
enthusiasm  which  demanded  the  immediate  settle- 
ment of  plans. 

She  could  ill  brook  Dr.  McKnight 's  suggestion 
of  Welsh  rarebit,  a  suggestion  noisily  and  hungrily 
assented  to  by  his  companions. 

Miss  McKnight  laughed  quietly  at  her  protesta- 
tions, and  took  up  the  paper,  which  she  had  laid 
down  in  order  to  listen  to  her  friend's  confidences. 
"Jasper  probably  finds  business  dull  in  Pokonet," 
she  said.  "He  will  have  to  see  us  all  through, 
to-morrow." 

"Aunt  Edna,  this  hypocrisy  pains  me,"  retorted 
her  nephew,  on  his  way  to  the  dining-room  and 
the  chafing-dish.  "As  if  Welsh  rarebit  were  n't 
your  favorite  '  wanity. ' ' 

"Oh,  I  have  had  to  strain  my  digestion  up  to 
the  point  of  countenancing  you,  of  course,"  re- 
turned Miss  McKnight. 

Mrs.  Ormond  grumbled  and  foreboded,  but  she 
ate  a  generous  slice  of  the  dainty,  and  at  last,  to 
her  relief,  Miss  McKnight  gave  the  longed-for 
sign. 

"Come,  Jasper,  come.    I  can't  wait  any  longer," 


342  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

called  his  aunt  decisively.  "It  is  my  duty  to  see 
that  you  get  some  rest  in  the  few  days  that  remain 
to  you." 

Dr.  McKnight  looked  vaguely  toward  the  voice, 
and  then  back  at  Marguerite,  by  whom  he  was 
sitting.  The  girl  was  disturbed  by  his  manner 
since  their  interview.  It  had  all  the  unmistakable 
signs  of  these  latter  days,  with  something  added 
which  frightened  her  by  its  suggestion  of  the 
sweetness  which  life  might  hold,  if  only  she  truly 
and  disinterestedly  felt  for  him  what  he  did  for 
her. 

"  Come.  You  will  want  to  bid  the  Wise  Wo- 
man good  night,"  he  said,  with  a  smile,  "since 
she  stands  so  high  in  your  affections." 

Marguerite  looked  at  him  seriously.  "I  hope 
you  will  not  think  it  amusing  to  quote  me  to  her," 
she  said. 

He  shook  his  head  slowly,  looking  down  at  her 
with  a  gaze  which,  for  all  her  poise,  she  could  not 
meet. 

"I  should  not  quote  you  to  anybody,"  he  re- 
plied. "I  am  miserly  of  every  word  you  have 
ever  addressed  to  me." 

She  made  no  reply  to  this. 

"It  might  surprise  you  to  know  how  glad  I  am 
that  you  love  aunt  Edna." 

Here  Marguerite  did  look  up,  with  slow,  ques- 
tioning dignity.  He  went  on :  "  She  deserves  it. 
There  is  no  one  like  her.  I  am  not  jealous." 

"Jasper!"     Miss  McKnight   advanced   to  the 


THE   BONFIRE.  343 

dining-room.  "Don't  you  know  these  people 
want  to  go  to  bed?  Good  night,  my  girls." 

Katherine  and  Madeline  hurried  forward  and 
kissed  her;  then  her  brilliant  eyes  traveled  to 
Marguerite,  who  advanced  more  slowly,  and  with 
an  air  of  coldness  to  hide  her  embarrassment. 

The  Wise  Woman  saw  the  excitement  in  her 
nephew's  face,  and  felt  a  little  thrill. 

She  took  the  hand  of  the  graceful,  reluctant 
girl,  but  did  not  address  her.  "Good  night, 
Fritz  —  Gilbert.  How  rich  I  am  to  have  such  a 
flock  of  nice  children;"  then,  turning,  she  kissed 
Marguerite  softly,  and  moved  away. 

When  the  house  door  had  closed  upon  aunt  and 
nephew,  Katherine  took  Marguerite  by  both  shoul- 
ders and  held  her  against  the  wall. 

"  I  will  meet  you  at  sunrise  —  behind  the  sand 
dunes,"  she  said,  frowning  and  smiling,  "and  it 
is  to  be  to  the  death.  You  understand?  The 
Wise  Woman  kissed  you.  She  merely  let  Made- 
line and  me  kiss  her.  What  do  you  mean  by  it? 
You  came  last.  I  won't  stand  it." 

Marguerite's  pale  face  had  become  crimson. 
She  laughed,  too,  and  her  eyes  were  bright  as 
with  unshed  tears. 

Under  the  stars  Miss  McKnight  was  leaning  on 
Jasper's  arm,  as  they  mutely  walked  the  short  dis- 
tance home.  He  was  so  evidently  unconscious  of 
the  silence  that  she  did  not  break  it. 

At  last  he  threw  back  his  head  and  gave  a  short 
laugh. 


344  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Supposing,  aunt  Edna,  that  justice  to  myself 
compelled  me  to  go  into  bankruptcy." 

Miss  McKnight  smiled  in  sympathy  with  his 
amusement. 

"  I  should  expect  you  to  do  it  unflinchingly,  my 
dear." 

They  had  reached  the  farmhouse,  and  went  up 
the  steps.  Jasper  stood  still  and. put  his  arms 
around  his  aunt,  as  he  faced  her.  "But  what  if 
it  became  necessary  also  to  put  an  end  to  you?" 
he  added. 

Miss  McKnight  peered  up  at  him  in  the  dark- 
ness, curiously.  "Well,"  she  returned;  "I  am 
certain  you  would  do  it  as  humanely  as  possible." 

"I  am  sure  she  likes  me,"  she  thought  in  a 
flash.  "Can  she  fear  a  severe  case  of  auut-in- 
law?" 

"What  enigmas  you  are  talking,"  she  added 
aloud.  "  Whose  way  am  I  in? " 

"Mine,  mine,  aunt  Edna.  Only  mine;"  and 
Jasper  kissed  her  as  he  spoke,  in  the  impetuous 
fashion  of  his  childhood. 

"I  will  get  out  of  it,  dear,  any  time  you  tell 
me,"  she  answered. 

"Yes?  Well,  wait  till  I  tell  you.  Wait  till 
I  am  certain  whether  you  are  an  obstacle,  or  a 
particularly  irresistible  bait." 

"I  don't  understand  why  the  old  lady  should 
figure  at  all,"  she  remarked  quietly. 

"Then  you  are  a  sham  after  all,  and  not  a 
Wise  Woman.  I  've  found  you  out." 


THE   BONFIRE.  345 

Miss  McKnight  patted  his  arm.  "I  would  like 
to  help  you,  Jasper,  to  get  every  good  thing  you 
want." 

"  Well,  I  'm  not  sure  of  anything,  aunt  Edna. 
Never  felt  so  impressed  with  the  doubtfulness  of 
uncertain  things  in  all  my  life;  but  I  think  —  I 
think  you  are  helping  me.  Good  night." 

Meanwhile,  Mrs.  Ormond's  opportunity  having 
at  last  arrived,  she  summoned  her  children  to  her 
own  room. 

"I  haven't  done  anything,  mother,"  said  Kath- 
erine,  her  eyes  dancing,  as  she  pretended  dread  of 
some  summary  punishment. 

"It  is  enough,  I  think,  that  I  have  to  wait  till 
all  hours  of  the  night  before  I  can  get  a  chance 
for  a  little  quiet  talk  with  my  children.  Gilbert, 
you  can  perch  on  the  trunk.  I  have  only  three 
chairs  in  this  uncomfortable  place." 

"We  have  an  extra  one  you  can  take  as  well  as 
not,"  declared  Katherine,  "if  you  care  for  more." 

"It  won't  be  necessary,"  returned  Mrs.  Or- 
mond  shortly.  "I  have  a  letter  to  read  you." 
She  looked  around  impressively,  and  then  drawing 
Mrs.  Allington's  letter  from  her  pocket,  she  read 
it  aloud  with  due  emphasis  on  each  cordial  phrase. 
"'  P.  S.,'  "  she  added  at  the  close,  with  a  quick  but 
solemn  glance  in  the  direction  of  her  son. 
" '  Frances  desires  that  you  will  say  to  Mr.  Or- 
mond  that  here  will  be  opportunity  to  give  him 
the  revenge  at  tennis  which  he  asked  for  the  last 
time  they  met. '  ' 


346  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"I  don't  remember  asking  anything  of  the  sort," 
remarked  Gilbert  bluntly. 

"That  makes  no  difference  since  Miss  Ailing- 
ton  does,"  replied  his  mother,  dropping  the  letter 
in  her  lap. 

"Not  a  particle,"  tittered  Madeline.  "Frances 
Allington  admires  blond  men.  She  told  me  so. 
There,  I  forgot  to  tell  you  of  it  until  this  minute. 
How  vexed  she  would  be  with  me !  " 

Gilbert  grunted  ungratefully.  The  memory  of 
the  tableau  at  the  other  side  of  the  bonfire  haunted 
him.  He  had  been  telling  himself  all  the  evening 
that  he  made  a  mistake,  after  all,  to  remain  here. 
He  saw  what  his  mother  was  arriving  at,  and  he 
lacked  the  energy  to  oppose  her. 

Katherine  had  listened  indifferently.  Mrs.  Or- 
mond  eyed  her  with  a  vague  appreciation  of  her 
fresh,  happy  face,  as  she  proceeded. 

"You  can  all  see  that  this  is  not  the  sort  of 
invitation  one  would  wish  to  slight." 

"Mrs.  Allington  says  herself,"  remarked  Kath- 
erine, "that  the  invitation  is  possible  only  because 
of  the  failure  of  other  friends  to  be  able  to  keep 
these  dates.  I  should  not  consider  it  at  all  press- 
ing. However,  if  you  and  Madeline  wish  to  go, 
that  is  another  matter." 

"Madeline  and  I?  Don't  you  want  to  go?" 
asked  Mrs.  Ormond. 

The  rush- of  color  to  Katherine 's  face  and  the 
trepidation  in  her  wide  eyes  at  this  unexpected 
question  made  a  startling  change  in  her.  "I? 


THE   BONFIRE.  347 

Oh,  no,"  she  answered,  her  breath  coming  quickly 
as  at  approaching  danger. 

Her  mother  laughed  in  an  annoyed  way.  "Oh, 
you  infatuated  child!  Now,  Gilbert,  I  hope  you 
are  going  to  oblige  me?"  she  added,  turning  to 
him  coaxingly. 

"  It  is  hardly  worth  while,  considering  the  short 
time  remaining  to  me ;  still,  if  you  wish  it,  I  will 
go." 

"Thank  you,  dear."  Mrs.  Ormond  smiled  in 
her  relief.  "This  is  Wednesday.  We  will  start 
Saturday  morning ;  so  absorb  a  great  deal  of  your 
Pokonet,  Katherine,  in  the  next  two  days." 

"But  I  am  not  going,  mother,"  returned  the 
girl,  in  distress.  "Why  should  I  go?  " 

"Every  reason,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Ormond 
decidedly.  "We  don't  want  to  leave  you  behind 
us,  and  you  see  by  the  letter,  you  are  needed  to 
balance  the  number  of  young  men  that  have  been 
asked." 

"Young  men! "  repeated  Katherine,  in  involun- 
tary scorn. 

"You  know  very  well  how  an  odd  number  in- 
commodes a  hostess.  Don't  say  another  word, 
my  dear.  Mrs.  Allington  is  a  person  I  would 
not  disoblige  for  anything.  I  want  both  my  little 
girls  under  my  wing." 

"Oh,  mother!"  Katherine's  face  had  grown 
pale,  and  she  looked  piteously  at  Gilbert,  whose 
suspicions  received  confirmation  then  and  there. 

"  Poor  little  Kitty,"  he  thought.      "This  is  but 


348  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

the  beginning  of  troubles."  Yet  he  could  not 
resist  the  appeal  in  those  soft  eyes,  which  looked 
as  if  they  could  never  twinkle  again. 

"I  should  be  very  glad  to  stay  here  and  look 
after  Katherine,  if  you  would  allow  that,  mother. 
That  would  even  up  the  men." 

"Oh,  yes!  "  ejaculated  Katherine  eagerly. 

Her  mother  gave  her  an  accusing  look.  "I 
have  always  thought  you  an  unselfish  girl,  Kath- 
erine," she  said  severely.  "The  idea  of  accept- 
ing a  suggestion  which  incommodes  and  disap- 
points several  persons,  simply  because  it  makes 
it  possible  for  you  to  stay  with  these  —  individuals 
whom  you  fancy  so  strongly." 

Poor  Katherine 's  very  ears  grew  pink.  She 
dared  not  meet  the  eyes  of  any  one  in  the  room, 
but  sat  motionless  and  silent  until  Mrs.  Ormond 
dismissed  her  for  the  night  with  a  kiss. 

"It  is  too  bad,"  said  Madeline  sympathetically, 
when  they  were  alone,  "but  of  course  I  can't 
understand  how  you  can  feel  so  about  it.  For  my 
own  part,  I  hate  Pokonet.  I  never  want  to  see 
it  again." 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE   MARY    LEDDY. 

"THAT  four -master  is  on  the  bar,  Ma,"  an- 
nounced Mr.  Hodgson,  coming  into  the  house  the 
next  morning  from  a  trip  of  investigation  to  the 
beach. 

"You  don't  say  so,"  replied  his  wife,  who  was 
busily  assisting  in  preparations  for  breakfast. 
She  looked  up  with  more  interest  than  she  usually 
manifested  in  her  husband's  communications,  but 
her  excitement  was  nothing  to  that  which  shone  in 
Katherine  Orniond's  eyes,  as,  arrayed  in  a  white 
wrapper,  she  suddenly  appeared  in  the  kitchen. 

"Hel-lo,  Kittiwake,"  said  the  old  man,  smiling 
at  sight  of  his  favorite.  "What 's  up  so  early  in 
the  morning?" 

"I  am;  and  is  that  really  a  schooner  on  the 
bar?" 

Mr.  Hodgson  nodded.  "Stuck  as  tight  as 
wax." 

"I've  been  watching  those  masts  for  the  last 
hour;  and  just  now  I  saw  you  coming  through  the 
field,  so  I  hurried  down.  I  know  a  good  stiff 
breeze  sprang  up  last  night,  but  there  was  no  bad 
weather.  What  was  the  matter?  " 


350  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

The  old  man  laughed.  "Some  pretty  green 
steerin',  I  guess." 

"Did  the  Life  Saving  men  go  out?  " 

"Oh,  yes;  they  worked  there  a  long  spell. 
Cap'n  Morse  says  they  cal'late  they  saved  nine- 
teen lives,  —  ten  men  and  a  cat." 

"Right  close  to  us,  and  we  knew  nothing  about 
it!  I  was  awake  awhile,  and  thought  the  sea 
roared  louder  than  usual." 

"Yes;  there  's  a  middlin'  big  surf  runnin'. 
Hope  the  wind  lightens  'fore  that  schooner  gits 
hammered  to  bits.  She  's  a  pretty  craft.  They  've 
telegraphed  to  New  York  for  the  wrecker.  Guess 
Fritz  wouldn't  be  snoozin'  very  deep,  if  he  knew 
what  was  on  the  bar.  Ye  might  jest  knock  on 
his  door  as  ye  're  goin'  past,  Kittiwake;"  but 
Katherine,  with  some  hasty  remark  about  being- 
late  to  breakfast,  whisked  her  white  gown  through 
the  hall  and  up  the  staircase. 

In  an  hour  the  whole  town  knew  of  the  stranded 
ship.  The  usually  quiet  road  became  lively  with 
pedestrians  and  vehicles.  Everybody  was  eager 
to  view  the  novel  sight.  Even  Mrs.  Ormond  and 
her  parasol  were  on  the  beach  earlier  than  usual, 
although  she  protested  that  she  could  not  see  why 
people  made  such  a  fuss. 

She  lifted  her  eyeglasses  to  inspect  the  hand- 
some new  schooner,  held  helplessly  in  the  grip  of 
the  sand-bar,  while  the  waves  plunged  and  rolled 
about  its  shining  black  sides. 

"It  is  always  a  matter  of  interest  and  concern 


THE   MARY  LEDDY.  351 

when    property    is    in    danger,"    said   Miss    Mc- 
Knight.     "Take  that  prosaic  view  of  the  case." 

"The  ship  looks  safe  enough,"  remarked  Mrs. 
Ormond. 

"Yet  they  tell  me  it  is  in  great  danger  of  going 
to  pieces." 

Fritz  and  Gilbert  had  made  short  work  of 
breakfast,  and  hurried  away  with  eager,  boyish 
interest  in  what  was  going  on ;  but  Mrs.  Ormond 
had  insisted  upon  her  daughters  attending  to  cer- 
tain affairs  which  had  reference  to  their  departure 
before  she  would  permit  them  to  follow. 

"When  you  once  get  to  that  shore,"  she  said 
firmly,  "I  never  know  when  I  shall  be  able  to  get 
hold  of  you  again.  One  child  in  the  hand  is 
worth  two  on  the  beach;  but  I  propose  to  keep 
you  both  a  little  while." 

The  consequence  was,  that  when  Katherine  and 
Madeline  arrived  tardily  at  the  scene  of  excite- 
ment, Marguerite  and  Dr.  McKnight  advanced 
toward  the  dunes  to  meet  them. 

"Didn't  I  tell  you  the  other  day  that  you  were 
a  siren,  Miss  Madeline?"  asked  Jasper,  as  he 
lifted  his  hat.  "Behold  the  consequence  over 
yonder.  No  storm,  no  apparent  reason  for  the 
misadventure ;  but  —  we  understand !  " 

Madeline's  delicate  lips  curved  smilingly,  and 
she  shrugged  her  shoulders.  She  could  accept 
even  Dr.  McKnight's  badinage,  with  such  a  pros- 
pect of  congenial  surroundings  as  the  following 
week  held  out  to  her. 


352  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Our  brothers  swam  out  to  the  schooner,"  an- 
nounced Marguerite  to  Katherine. 

"Have  they  come  back? "  asked  the  latter, 
looking  startled.  "It  was  too  far." 

She  spoke  so  apprehensively  that  her  friend 
smiled  at  her  in  a  way  that  roused  her  conscious- 
ness, and  slid  an  arm  around  her  as  they  walked 
along  together.  "Gilbert  has  not  been  accus- 
tomed of  late  to  swimming  distances,"  continued 
Katherine  faintly,  her  cheeks  hot.  "I  always 
think  of  cramp  and  sharks  and  things,  away  out 
there.  Oh,  Marguerite,  the  pretty  thing ! "  she 
continued,  as  they  gazed  at  the  schooner  with  its 
bare  masts  outlined  against  the  vivid  blue  sky. 
"And  it  is  such  a  gay,  bright  morning.  One 
cannot  think  of  disaster." 

"One  is  averted,  at  all  events,"  replied  Mar- 
guerite, pointing  northward,  "for  there  come 
those  boys  now." 

The  attention  of  the  quartette  was  immediately 
riveted  on  the  two  heads  that  appeared  above  the 
waves,  and  they  all  went  to  meet  the  swimmers, 
who  waded  ashore,  smiling  and  breathing  hard, 
and  sank  down  dripping  on  the  warm  sand,  receiv- 
ing a  volley  of  questions  as  they  did  so. 

They  described  the  freshness  and  trimness  of 
the  schooner,  Fritz  addressing  all  his  remarks  to 
Katherine. 

"A  ship  seems  so  alive  to  me  always,"  she 
answered.  "I  can't  bear  to  think  of  its  being 
captive  and  beaten  by  the  waves  that  ought  to 


THE   MARY  LEDDY.  353 

bear  it  along.  Oh,  I  wish  we  could  see  it.  Don't 
you  think  Captain  Morse  would  take  us  out?" 

"Well,  there  is  nothing  small  about  you,"  re- 
marked Gilbert,  turning  to  his  sister.  "Is  all 
you  want  just  to  have  Captain  Morse  run  out  the 
life-boat  and  the  men,  so  you  can  have  a  near 
view  of  that  schooner?" 

Katherine  was  standing,  her  cheeks  flushed, 
her  eyes  beaming,  looking  out  toward  the  goal  of 
her  ambition. 

She  had  forgotten  the  bitterness  of  going  away, 
forgotten  the  dull  blank  which  the  rest  of  the 
summer  presented,  and  only  knew  that  the  sun 
was  shining,  the  water  sparkling,  the  air  inspir- 
ing, and  that  lying  at  her  feet  was  the  being  who 
made  any  landscape  beautiful  for  her,  and  whose 
eyes  she  knew  were  this  minute  fixed  upon  her  with 
a  look  which  gave  her  a  happy  sense  of  power. 

"Yes,  that  is  all  I  want,"  she  answered  de- 
murely. Then  she  let  her  radiant  look  fall  to 
meet  the  one  that  was  upturned  to  her.  "Won't 
you  ask  Captain  Morse  for  me,  Mr.  Sheldon?  " 

Fritz  rose. 

"Nonsense,  Katherine.  You  won't  do  any- 
thing of  the  kind,  Sheldon,"  said  Gilbert,  highly 
disgusted. 

"It  won't  do  any  harm  to  ask,"  answered  Fritz 
quietly. 

"  Well,  he  '11  think  you  have  your  nerve  with 
you." 

"And    so   I    have,"    said   Sheldon,    smiling   at 


354  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

Katherine,  and  then  starting  off  on  a  run  down 
the  beach. 

"Tell  him  I  want  it,  too,"  called  Madeline 
after  him;  then  they  all  began  to  follow  slowly. 
"You  must  remember,  Gilbert,  how  good  Captain 
Morse  always  was  to  us." 

"That  is  very  different.  He  used  to  put  up 
with  our  being  under  foot,  but  just  why  that 
should  give  us  the  right  now  to  meddle  with  his 
official  business,  I  fail  to  see." 

They  soon  came  up  to  where  Miss  McKnight 
and  Mrs.  Ormond  were  sitting. 

"Mr.  Sheldon  has  gone  to  see  if  Captain  Morse 
won't  take  us  out  to  the  schooner,"  announced 
Katherine. 

Her  mother  was  so  glad  to  see  her  look  like 
her  happy  self  that  she  only  gazed,  and  made  no 
comment. 

"You  have  confidence  in  Captain  Morse's  good 
nature,"  remarked  Miss  McKnight.  "I  should 
suppose  the  life  saving  crew  had  had  too  busy  a 
night  of  it  to  care  to  make  pleasure  trips  to-day." 

"They  were  all  through  before  two  o'clock," 
returned  Katherine,  undaunted.  "Mr.  Sheldon 
was  just  telling  us.  I  think  the  men  have  had  as 
long  a  rest  as  they  need.  I  only  hope  they  will 
think  so,  too."  She  looked  so  merry  and  mis- 
chievous, as  she  spoke,  that  Miss  McKnight  smiled 
in  sympathy. 

"Here  comes  Fritz  now,"  she  answered,  "so 
you  will  soon  know  the  result  of  his  audacity." 


THE   MARY  LEDDY.  355 

As  the  young  man  approached,  they  all  looked 
at  him  expectantly. 

"Well?"  called  Madeline.  "'  To  be  or  not  to 
be;  that  is  the  question.' ' 

The  messenger  did  not  answer  until  he  had 
drawn  near.  "I  did  n't  think  the  captain  was 
going  to  consent  at  first,"  he  began.  "When  I 
made  the  request,  he  scratched  his  head  and 
smiled  doubtfully,  but  in  a  minute  he  said  that  if 
Kitty  and  Maidie  Ormond  wanted  to  go  out  to 
the  schooner,  he  guessed  they  'd  have  to  go." 

"There,   Gilly,"   exclaimed   Madeline,   in   tri- 
umph. 
'  "When?  "  asked  Katherine  in  the  same  breath. 

"I  don't  know  exactly,  but  I  think  before  long. 
He  said  you  would  have  to  wear  your  bathing- 
suits.  You  had  better  get  them  on  now." 

"I  'm  in  that?"  asked  Dr.  McKnight  eagerly. 

"Certainly;  our  party." 

The  girls  were  already  running  to  their  bath- 
house, and  soon  the  conventional  maidens  who 
had  disappeared  were  replaced  by  short-skirted, 
black-stockinged,  bare-armed  figures,  their  heads 
protected  by  red  silk  handkerchiefs. 

"Katherine,  those  waves  are  tremendous,"  said 
Mrs.  Ormond  anxiously,  as  the  girl  drew  near. 
"Everybody  has  had  to  give  up  bathing." 

"It's  a  '  middlin'  surf,'  Mr.  Hodgson  says," 
she  replied,  her  eyes  twinkling  narrowly. 

"I  haven't  been  consulted,  but  I  hope  it  is 
safe." 


356  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"It  doesn't  need  to  be  safe,  mother.  What  a 
superfluous  thing  safety  would  be  with  a  life  sav- 
ing crew  aboard!  They  're  getting  out  the  boat," 
added  Katherine  joyously,  and  as  the  three  girls 
started  off,  running,  Mrs.  Orniond  and  Miss  Mc- 
Knight  rose  and  followed  more  slowly. 

Some  men  in  sou'westers  were  pushing  the 
heavy  boat  down  along  its  wooden  track  to  the 
water,  Fritz,  Jasper,  and  Gilbert  assisting  with 
a  will.  To  launch  it  through  the  powerful  surf 
was  a  matter  requiring  skill.  An  audience  stood 
about  to  see  the  party  embark. 

The  experience  was  exciting  at  any  rate  to  the 
delighted  girls,  who  were  helped  over  the  high 
gunwale  while  the  craft  was  still  on  the  beach. 
Katherine  took  her  place  in  the  bow,  waving  her 
hand  to  her  mother,  who  did  not  know  exactly 
how  to  regard  the  novel  excursion. 

"Do  you  suppose  I  do  right  to  let  them  go, 
Edna?"  she  asked,  at  intervals  of  a  minute,  and 
Miss  McKnight  continued  to  respond  patiently: 
"Oh,  yes,  I  think  so." 

"I  suppose  it's  all  right,  Gilbert,"  Mrs.  Or- 
mond  called  once. 

"I  'm  not  sure.  I  am  expecting  to  be  very  sea- 
sick," returned  her  son,  jumping  into  the  boat 
after  Fritz  and  Jasper. 

The  men  in  their  oil-skin  suits  stood  at  the 
brink  of  the  water,  waiting  for  the  moment  for 
the  final  shove.  The  oars  were  laid  in  readiness 
across  the  gunwale.  A  wave  wet  the  men  to  the 


THE    MARY   LEDDY.  357 

knees;  a  great  roller  was  swiftly  advancing.  A 
push  to  the  boat,  a  shriek  and  laugh  from  sea  and 
shore,  Katherine  was  spattered  with  brine,  the 
boat  stood  at  an  angle  of  forty-five  degrees,  and 
for  a  second  the  laughing  girl  looked  down  from 
her  height  on  all  creation.  The  last  man  jumped 
in,  and  down  slid  the  boat  from  the  wave,  while 
every  oar  was  dipped  to  guide  it  over  the  next 
great  billow. 

"  I  had  no  idea  of  it,  Edna.  Do  see  how  they 
go  up  and  down!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Ormond, 
clutching  her  friend's  arm.  "Had  you  any  idea 
they  would  toss  so?  I'm  sure  I  couldn't  have 
consented,  if  I  had  known  what  it  would  be." 

"It  is  a  great  lark  for  them,"  returned  Miss 
McKnight  soothingly.  "Captain  Morse  is  very 
kind." 

"  How  bright  Katherine  was  when  she  was  talk- 
ing to  him,"  said  Mrs.  Ormond,  speaking  distress- 
fully. "  She  has  the  sweetest  nature  I  ever  knew. 
Oh,  that  boat  seemed  such  an  elephant  on  shore, 
and  there  it  goes  nearly  out  of  sight  between  the 
waves.  The  child  seemed  quite  unhappy  last  night 
about  leaving  Pokonet  so  soon.  Some  girls  would 
have  been  sulky  to-day;  but  not  Katherine.  Dear 
girl!  I  do  so  love  to  have  my  children  happy,  and 
see  them  enjoy  themselves." 

"Katherine  is  a  rare  character,'.'  returned  Miss 
McKnight.  She  spoke  sadly.  Her  heart  yearned 
over  her  favorite,  for  she  thought  she  saw  per- 
plexity ahead  for  her.  She  wondered  if  Mrs. 


358  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

Ormond  had  some  motive  which  did  not  appear 
in  hurrying  her  away  from  Pokonet  against  her 
will.  She  wondered  if  she,  too,  had  discovered 
Fritz  Sheldon's  attitude.  "The  man  who  wins 
Katherine  will  secure  a  treasure,"  she  added  ten- 
tatively. 

"Yes,  indeed,"  assented  the  mother,  growing 
calmer  as  the  boat  receded  and  its  alternations  of 
position  became  less  evident.  "But  I  never  think 
about  Katherine 's  marrying.  She  has  never  had 
a  love  affair,  I  am  happy  to  say.  She  is  just  one 
of  those  calm,  capable  home-bodies,  who  are  such 
comforts  in  a  house." 

Meanwhile,  the  girl  whose  mother  was  so  confi- 
dent of  her  fancy-free  condition  was  conscious  of 
being  divided  from  Fritz  Sheldon  by  the  boat's 
length.  In  its  rise  and  fall  they  exchanged  an 
occasional  gay  look  or  gesture.  Fortunately,  it 
was  a  set  of  steady  heads  that  were  undertaking 
the  excursion,  and  the  merry  party  were  still 
merry  when  the  schooner  was  reached. 

"  The  '  Mary  Leddy . '  How  disappointingly 
commonplace,"  said  Marguerite,  reading  the  name 
on  the  stern;  but  the  difficulty  of  boarding  the 
vessel  soon  swallowed  up  all  consideration  of  its 
name.  Scarcely  was  their  painter  made  fast  be- 
fore a  heavy  sea  struck  the  small  craft,  and  the 
strong  rope  snapped  like  a  thread.  A  second 
effort  was  successful,  however.  The  boat  was 
lifted  on  a  wave  nearly  level  with  the  schooner's 
deck,  then  slid  down  into  the  trough  of  the  sea. 


THE   MARY  LEDDY.  359 

It  was  not  an  easy  matter  to  select  the  right 
moment  to  step  upon  the  rope  ladder  which  was 
thrown  over  the  schooner's  side;  but  the  transit 
was  finally  accomplished,  and  the  party  stood  on 
the  spotlessly  clean  deck. 

The  mate  of  the  boat  was  on  board,  and  re- 
ceived them  courteously,  both  he  and  his  men 
regarding  the  girls  in  their  bathing-suits  with  ill- 
concealed  astonishment. 

He  showed  them  through  the  neat  cabin,  fin- 
ished in  hard  wood,  and  well  carpeted  and  fur- 
nished. 

"She's  too  good  to  be  knocked  to  bits,"  he 
remarked  regretfully. 

"You  expect  the  wrecker  by  to-morrow,  I  be- 
lieve," returned  Fritz.  "We'll  hope  the  wind 
will  be  favorable  to  you.  All  Pokonet  will  rejoice 
to  see  the  Mary  Leddy  slip  off  the  bar." 

"  How  long  will  it  take  after  the  wrecker  does 
get  here?"  asked  Katherine. 

"I  suppose  it  depends  very  much  on  wind  and 
weather,"  returned  Sheldon.  He  looked  down 
into  her  face  with  the  brightening  expression  which 
always  grew  in  it  when  he  addressed  her. 

Katherine's  did  not  reflect  its  illumination. 
She  turned  and  went  up  on  deck.  A  pang  had 
gone  through  her  at  the  thought  of  how  swiftly 
these  golden  hours  were  slipping  by,  and  how 
soon,  in  the  fashionable  conventionality  of  the 
Allington  circle,  time  would  seem  to  stand  still. 

Fritz  followed  her  as  the   needle   follows   the 


360  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

magnet,  and  paused  beside  her  as  she  stood  look- 
ing across  the  water  to  the  small  black  figures 
moving  on  the  beach. 

He  regarded  the  coquettish  knot  of  the  crimson 
handkerchief  surmounting  her  dark  hair,  and  her 
bare  arms  hanging  loosely  from  the  short,  puffed 
sleeves. 

"This  is  the  first  time  I  have  seen  you  wear 
that  dress  since  our  adventure,"  he  said. 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  "and  it  is  the  last  time 
I  shall  wear  it  this  summer." 

She  looked  up  at  him,  as  she  spoke,  with  such 
sweet  pathetic  eyes  and  lips  that  he  laughed  from 
sheer  love  of  her. 

"Was  it  really  such  a  fright?"  he  asked,  and 
she  felt  blessedly  conscious  of  the  tenderness  in 
his  voice.  "You  mustn't  give  up  to  that  feeling. 
We  will  wash  it  away  in  another  experience. 
Promise  that  you  will  go  in  with  me  to-morrow 
morning,  —  or  no,  not  to-morrow,  I  have  to  go 
away  with  Mr.  McKnight  to-morrow  " 

"Must  you?"  interrupted  Katherine  involun- 
tarily ;  then  flushed  red  as  her  handkerchief. 

The  exclamation  turned  Sheldon's  face  radiant. 
He  knew  that  she  liked  him,  but  could  it  be  that 
she  cared  for  him  as  he  cared  for  her;  that  one 
day's  absence  was  a  thing  for  her  to  dread  as  he 
dreaded  it? 

"Yes,  I  must,  I  'm  sorry  to  say,"  he  answered, 
as  composedly  as  he  could,  being  aware  of  the  fact 
that  a  sailor  was  lingering  near  and  watching 


THE    MARY   LEDDY.  361 

them  furtively.  "  It  is  a  business  errand  to  exam- 
ine a  piece  of  machinery.  Mr.  McKnight  engaged 
that  we  would  go  to  see  it  to-morrow,  and  unfor- 
tunately I  'm  the  Hamlet  of  the  affair,  and  the 
trip  can't  be  made  without  me.  Was  it  anything 
especial  that  you  wanted  to  do?"  In  spite  of 
himself,  he  could  not  keep  all  his  happiness  out 
of  his  voice. 

Katherine,  since  her  involuntary  exclamation, 
had  held  her  face  averted. 

"Oh,  no,"  she  answered  as  carelessly  as  she 
was  able.  "I  only  felt  selfishly  like  keeping  our 
whole  party  together  the  one  more  day  that  is  left 
to  me.  We  go  away  on  Saturday." 

Sheldon  looked  aghast.  "Go  away.  Where 
to?"  His  changed  tone  was  so  expressive  that 
Katherine  glanced  up  at  him  again. 

"To  —  I  believe  it  is  to  Bar  Harbor.  At  any 
rate,  it  is  to  visit  the  Allingtons." 

"But  why  need  you  go?" 

Katherine's  lip  curled.  "I  believe  in  order 
that  Mrs.  Allington's  guests,  girls  and  men,  should 
be  equally  balanced.  I  didn't  know  until  last 
night.  My  mother  "  — 

"She  is  taking  you  away,"  ejaculated  Fritz. 
His  companion  had  never  before  seen  him  moved 
from  his  steady  balance.  "Then  to-day  and  to- 
morrow "  — 

"Beg  pardon,  sir,"  interrupted  the  sailor,  de- 
spairing of  waiting  for  this  couple  to  move. 
"That  coil  of  rope  in  front  of  you,  sir."  He 


362  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

dove  for  it  as  the  young  people  stepped  back,  and 
at  the  same  moment  Dr.  McKnight  hailed  them. 
The  sea  was  in  a  tumult;  the  men  could  not  hold 
the  boat  any  longer;  they  must  go  at  once. 

"Sliding  down  a  cellar  door  is  nothing  to  this," 
said  Jasper  to  Fritz  as  the  small  craft  rose  slowly, 
and  then  plunged  to  the  depths.  How  and  when 
to  drop  into  it  from  the  rope  ladder  was  a  problem 
for  novices. 

One  by  one  the  party  descended,  and  at  Cap- 
tain Morse's  word  of  command  let  go  their  hold 
on  the  rope. 

Fritz  and  Katherine  came  last.  He  preceded 
her,  and  stood  below  to  help  her  at  the  difficult 
last  moment.  She  was  half  way  down  the  pliable 
ladder  when  she  paused.  One  foot  swung  off, 
and  her  body  seemed  to  sway.  Fritz,  watching 
her  every  movement,  jumped  and  seized  the  rope, 
and  was  beside  her  with  incredible  swiftness. 
Balancing  himself  with  one  foot  below  her,  he 
seized  the  side  of  the  ladder  and  threw  the  other 
arm  around  her  body. 

"Are  you  dizzy?  You  frightened  me!"  he 
ejaculated,  looking  straight  into  her  eyes.  His 
mustache  swept  her  cheek.  She  had  been  pale 
with  sudden  terror  of  the  boiling,  leaping  waves 
that  seemed  hungering  to  reach  and  swallow  her, 
and  now  she  turned  whiter  still. 

"My  darling,"  he  breathed,  pressing  her  to 
him.  The  wild,  dizzying  confusion  below  became 
as  nothing  to  Katherine.  Here,  clinging  to  her 


THE  MARY  LEDDY.  363 

lover  and  he  to  her,  was  where  she  would  fain  have 
remained.  They  were  together.  Mr.  Robert  Mc- 
Knigrht  with  his  odious  business  schemes  could 

O 

not  rob  her  of  him.  Her  mother  could  not  rob 
him  of  her.  Ah,  if  it  could  only  last !  The  party 
below  were  waiting  impatiently. 

"Now,  dearest,  we  go,"  said  Fritz.  Up  rose 
the  life-boat  from  an  abyss.  Lifting  Katherine 
quite  away  from  the  ladder  as  he  stepped  down, 
he  was  ready  for  it,  and  deposited  her  safely  on 
the  unstable  foothold,  following  himself. 

Madeline,  sitting  next  her  sister  in  the  boat, 
surveyed  her  curiously.  Katherine  did  not  look 
like  a  person  who  had  been  in  need  of  special 
assistance.  Indeed,  her  appearance  was  such  as 
might  be  expected  in  one  who  had  just  swallowed 
the  elixir  of  eternal  life  and  youth.  Her  cheeks 
were  flushed,  her  eyes  full  of  new  beauty. 

"Were  you  really  dizzy?"  asked  Madeline. 

Her  sister  looked  at  her  absently,  and  smiled. 

"Well,  why  don't  you  answer?"  asked  the 
other  impatiently. 

"Did  you  speak  to  me?" 

"Yes.  I  asked  you  if  you  were  dizzy  up  there. 
Goodness,  how  this  thing  pitches!  " 

"No,  I  'm  not  dizzy,"  replied  Katherine. 

Her  gentle,  beatific  voice  and  look,  in  connec- 
tion with  the  tableau  on  the  rope  ladder,  impressed 
even  Madeline,  who,  having  no  affair  of  her  own 
on  hand  just  then,  had  more  leisure  than  usual  to 
think  of  her  sister.  Illumined  by  her  new  idea, 


364  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

she  looked  past  the  others  at  Fritz.  He  was  en- 
grossed in  helping  the  men. 

Captain  Morse  was  standing  in  a  picturesque 
attitude  at  the  stern,  using  his  oar  to  guide  the 
boat.  The  waves  had  so  increased  in  size  that 
she  often  had  to  be  headed  around  into  them,  to 
avoid  swamping. 

An  interested  crowd  on  shore  were  watching 
their  progress,  Mrs.  Ormond  and  Miss  McKnight 
being  among  the  number.  The  latter 's  brother 
had  come  down  to  the  beach  to  inquire  Fritz's 
whereabouts. 

When  told  that  he  was  on  the  stranded  schooner, 
the  old  gentleman's  manner  evinced  some  impa- 
tience. 

"I  didn't  know  Mr.  Sheldon  ever  played  tru- 
ant," remarked  Mrs.  Ormond,  twirling  her  parasol 
handle  on  her  shoulder. 

"No,  that  isn't  much  in  his  line,"  returned 
Mr.  McKnight  dryly,  looking  seaward  from  under 
his  white  eyebrows.  "Don't  I  see  a  boat  now?  " 

"You  may,  Eobert,"  returned  his  sister.  "All 
I  can  say  is,  you  have  good  eyes." 

"He  is  right.  They  have  started,"  said  Mrs. 
Ormond.  "  Dear  me,  what  waves !  I  wish  Cap- 
tain Morse  had  not  been  so  good  natured." 

It  was  exciting  to  watch  the  homeward  passage 
of  the  boat  that  held  such  a  precious  load  and 
looked  so  small  between  the  white-crested  billows. 
As  it  was  headed  at  last  toward  the  beach,  the 
girls  waved  their  hands  gayly  to  their  friends. 


THE   MARY  LEDDY.  365 

""How  will  they  ever  land  through  that  surf?" 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Ormond. 

She  was  soon  to  see.  Everybody  stood  up  and 
came  as  near  to  the  hissing,  swift-creeping  foam 
as  they  dared,  while  the  life-boat  was  borne  aloft 
on  a  great  wave  rolling  and  roaring  shoreward. 
The  men  in  oil-skins  and  bathing-suits  jumped 
overboard  and  seized  the  gunwale  as  she  shot  upon 
the  sand,  and  the  next  billow  caught  and  splashed 
the  girls  amid  a  general  shout  of  laughter. 

Captain  Morse  was  profusely  thanked  for  his 
obligingness,  and  a  chorus  of  questions  and  an- 
swers arose. 

Mr.  McKnight  waited  with  what  patience  he 
might  while  Sheldon  lent  his  strength  to  the  re- 
turning of  the  boat  to  its  place.  It  filled  Kath- 
erine  with  apprehension  to  see  the  old  gentleman 
here.  He  was  a  rare  visitor  to  the  beach,  prefer- 
ring to  take  his  recreation  in  fishing  or  sailing 
expeditions  with  Mr.  Hodgson.  She  resented 
now  the  way  he  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  Fritz,  wait- 
ing for  an  opportunity  to  get  his  attention,  and 
her  ears  were  sharpened  to  hear  his  first  words,  as 
the  blue  and  white  bathing-suit  of  his  factotum 
drew  near. 

"Those  papers  came  by  the  morning  mail,  Shel- 
don," he  said,  in  tones  of  satisfaction.  "Now  we 
can  fix  up  the  whole  business." 

Fritz  assented  with  a  calm  exterior,  stopped 
and  talked  a  minute,  then  moved  to  where  Kath- 
erine  was  standing  removing  the  wet  red  handker- 
chief from  her  hair. 


366  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"  Some  papers  have  come  that  make  it  necessary 
for  me  to  work  all  the  afternoon,"  he  said,  look- 
ing at  her  with  an  expression  which  assured  her 
that  for  once  his  heart  was  not  in  the  subject  of 
steam  pipes. 

She  said  nothing,  but  she  was  thinking,  "To- 
day and  to-morrow;  it  is  too  cruel." 

"It  is  business  which  Mr.  McKnight  has  been 
particularly  anxious  to  have  accomplished  before 
to-morrow's  trip.  It  is  connected  with  it." 

Katherine  lifted  her  eyes  and  pushed  back  her 
pretty,  tumbled  hair.  "I  hate  Mr.  McKnight," 
she  said  gently  and  deliberately. 

Fritz  flushed  all  over.  "I  must  set  my  teeth 
and  go  through  with  it,  Katherine.  Katherine^ 
he  repeated,  drawing  out  the  syllables  like  a 
caress. 

"Coming,  Sheldon?"  called  his  employer. 
Presumably  he  had  once  stood  where  Fritz  stood 
now,  but  his  tone  betokened  that  he  had  forgotten 
all  about  it. 

"Yes,  at  once,"  called  the  young  man;  then  in 
a  totally  different  voice  he  added  low :  "  We  can't 
afford  to  hate  him,  dear."  He  held  out  his  hand, 
and  Katherine  put  hers  into  its  strong  clasp.  "  It 
is  'we,'  now,  isn't  it?"  he  asked,  recklessly 
holding  her  hand  in  the  radiant  noonday  sun- 
shine, though  the  world  seemed  very  full  of  super- 
fluous fellow-beings,  who  kept  passing  inconven- 
iently near. 

Katherine  answered  him  with  a  smile,  and  a 


THE   MARY  LEDDY.  367 

glance  that  lie  thought  perfect,  though  it  was  so 
tangled  in  her  silky  lashes. 

"Then  auf  wiedersehen,  my  own  love,"  he  con- 
tinued, with  parting  intensity,  "and  pray  that  I 
may  forget  you  for  the  next  few  hours  "  — 

"Katherine,  come,  we  are  going."  It  was  Mrs. 
Ormond's  voice  in  imperious  accents. 

One  last  pressure  of  the  hands,  and  Fritz  set 
off  running  toward  the  bath-house,  while  Kather- 
ine turned  to  meet  her  mother,  who  was  advancing 
with  some  nervousness  in  her  haste.  The  girl 
was  slightly  the  taller,  and  beamed  down  upon 
the  incensed  face,  lovely  in  the  afterglow  of  hap- 
piness. 

"Really,  I  am  annoyed  with  you,  Katherine," 
said  Mrs.  Ormond  severely.  "Unconventionality 
and  eccentricity  are  carried  a  little  too  far  when 
they  hold  my  daughter's  hand  like  that  in  broad, 
open  daylight.  If  he  does  n't  know  any  better, 
you  do.  What  were  you  thinking  of  ?  " 

As  if  Katherine  could  ever  tell  anybody  what 
she  was  thinking  of. 

"I  presume  you  would  rather  he  did  it  in  pub- 
lic than  in  private,"  flippantly  remarked  Made- 
line, who  had  heard  this  reprimand. 

"Go  and  get  dressed,  both  of  you,"  said  Mrs. 
Ormond.  "It  is  nearly  dinner  time." 

When  the  girls  were  in  their  bath-house,  Made- 
line broke  the  silence  that  had  fallen  between 
them.  "I  've  found  you  out,  Katherine.  I  know 
now  why  you  don't  want  to  leave  Pokonet." 


368  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

Madeline  had  meant  to  continue  her  flippancy, 
and  to  be  very  off-hand;  but  the  gentle,  uncon- 
sciously exalted  look  which  her  sister  turned  to- 
ward her  was  moving,  even  to  the  selfish  little 
autocrat. 

With  a  sudden  dash  at  Katherine,  she  kissed 
her. 

"You  don't  deserve  that,"  she  said,  "for  you 
have  been  disgracefully  close-mouthed,  considering 
that  I  always  tell  you  everything.  I  was  never 
so  surprised  in  my  life,  I'll  confess  that,  flat; 
and  mother  will  be  wild.  If  you  take  my  advice, 
you  '11  elope." 

"Oh,  don't,  Madeline,"  said  Katherine.  She 
was  glad  to  have  the  kiss,  but  she  wished  her 
sister  would  have  stopped  there. 

"I  don't  feel  that  way,"  ran  on  the  younger. 
"I  want  you  to  understand  that.  I  believe  he  's 
a  rising  man ;  but  I  tell  you,  mother's  prejudice 
is  a  mountain.  You  would  n't  care  anything  about 
a  showy,  expensive  wedding,  and  think  of  the 
money  an  elopement  saves.  It  would  be  so  ro- 
mantic, too.  I  'd  love  to  have  one  in  the  family, 
but  I  could  never  consent  to  elope,  myself.  When 
I  am  a  bride,  I  want  to  have  a  crowd  of  people 
waiting  and  stretching  their  necks  for  the  first 
glimpse  of  me.  I  suppose  you  don't  want  me  to 
say  anything  to  mother?  " 

"No,"  returned  Katherine.  "Oh  no,  not  yet. 
I  'm  hardly  sure  of  it,  myself  —  yet." 

"I  am,  then,"  retorted  Madeline  irrepressibly. 


THE   MARY  LEDDY.  369 

"You've  no  idea  what  a  theatrical  scene  it  was 
when  old  Poke  —  excuse  me,  Katherine,  I  thought 
he  was  a  Poke  until  then  —  vaulted  up  that  ladder 
and  caught  you  in  his  arms.  I  was  electrified. 
But  it  was  an  awful  give-away.  Come,  don't 
look  haughty."  She  laughed,  and  caught  her  sis- 
ter in  her  arms.  "We  're  different,  but  I  'm  truly 
glad  if  you  're  happy,  dear." 

Katherine  returned  the  caress,  and  smiled  at 
the  speaker  from  the  heights  where  her  soul  stood. 
"Then  be  glad,"  she  answered. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

THE   EVE   OF   DEPARTURE. 

KATHERINE,  sustaining  the  fire  of  her  mother's 
and  sister's  comments,  missed  one  little  episode 
that  occurred  after  Fritz  left  her.  His  way  lay 
past  his  sister,  and  he  paused  in  his  hurry  to  seize 
both  her  hands  and  look  his  joy  for  one  swift 
moment  into  her  eyes  before  hastening  on. 

The  events  of  the  morning,  and  now  this  tri- 
umphant ebullition  from  grave,  matter-of-fact 
Fritz,  left  no  doubt  in  her  mind  as  to  how  matters 
stood. 

His  excitement  communicated  itself  to  Margue- 
rite in  such  degree  that  her  limbs  felt  weak.  She 
sat  down  in  the  lee  of  a  neighboring  sand  dune  to 
realize  how  glad  she  was  for  him ;  and  as  fast  as 
her  eyes  became  misty  she  drew  her  hand  impa- 
tiently across  them,  and  told  herself  that  it  was 
always  foolish  to  cry  for  joy.  Had  she  not  been 
willing  at  one  time  to  leave  him  in  loneliness  for 
his  own  good?  Was  this  not  a  thousand  times 
better  ? 

She  would  have  a  pleasant  room  somewhere, 
and  go  on  making  hats  and  bonnets  in  serene 
independence.  What  was  this?  She  suddenly 


THE  EVE   OF  DEPARTURE.  371 

loathed  the  thought  of  millinery,  and  a  dark  face 
with  a  smile  flashing  from  it  like  sunshine  seemed 
to  regard  her.  She,  put  it  away.  It  was  the  face 
of  the  tempter.  She  was  nervous  already  from 
long  consideration  of  it  in  imagination  and  in  the 
flesh. 

The  effect  of  a  long  vacation  is  enervating,  she 
decided. 

She  thought  wistfully  of  Katherine.  How  happy 
she  must  be  to  know  her  own  mind;  to  have  no 
hesitations,  or  doubts.  Again  the  dark,  expres- 
sive face,  with  the  brilliant  eyes  so  like  the  Wise 
Woman's,  rose  before  her.  Happy  Katherine. 
Yet  there  was  Mrs.  Ormond.  Fritz  would  have 
to  become  aware  of  her  now.  Marguerite  won- 
dered if  he  would  ever  call  that  ambitious  person- 
age "mother."  The  thought  struck  her  as  amus- 
ing, and  she  began  to  laugh.  This  set  free  the 
threatening  tears,  and  there  in  the  protection  of 
the  sand  dune  she  became  overcome  by  a  mild 
attack  of  hysterics,  after  which,  Katherine  and 
Madeline  being  safely  out  of  the  way,  she  went 
to  the  bath-house  and  made  her  toilet,  reaching 
home  after  the  family  had  sat  down  to  dinner. 
Fritz  was  not  present.  Mr.  Mcknight  had  al- 
ready claimed  him. 

"What's  the  reason  ye  ain't  eatin',  Kitty," 
Mr.  Hodgson  was  saying,  as  Marguerite  entered 
the  dining-room.  "Haven't  ye  got  a  good  piece, 
or  are  ye  in  love?"  He  grinned  at  poor  Kath- 
erine. 


372  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Thank  you  —  I  have  everything  —  very  nice," 
returned  the  girl,  busily  attacking  her  plate,  and 
glancing  away  from  Marguerite's  eyes. 

Madeline  choked  on  the  water  she  was  drinking 
at  the  moment  of  her  sister's  ambiguous  reply, 
and  Mrs.  Ormond  smiled.  Katherine  seemed  so 
alone  among  them,  and  she  loved  Fritz.  Margue- 
rite's heart  went  out  to  her  with  new,  sudden 
strength,  and  claimed  her. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Hodgson,"  said  Mrs.  Ormond. 
"Katherine  is  in  love,  and  I  am  about  separating 
her  from  the  beloved  object." 

Katherine's  heart  bounded.  What  did  her 
mother  know?  What  was  she  going  to  say  pub- 
licly? The  girl,  in  spite  of  her  burning  color, 
lifted  her  head  slowly  with  unconscious  pride,  and 
fixed  her  eyes  on  the  speaker. 

"  She  fell  in  love  with  Pokonet  at  a  very  early 
age,  and  she  doesn't  get  over  it  at  all,"  went  on 
Mrs.  Ormond.  "I  am  going  to  take  her  away 
Saturday,  and  she  is  behaving  as  well  as  she  can 
about  it,  but  I  know  it  is  a  pull." 

"Yes,  so  Ma 's  been  tellin'  me,"  said  Mr. 
Hodgson  dejectedly.  "I  'm  glad  Kittiwake  don't 
want  to  leave  MS.  We  always  begrudge  to  see 
the  last  of  her." 

Katherine  could  not  trust  herself  to  send  the 
old  man  a  look.  She  controlled  herself  only  by 
an  effort,  and  Marguerite  saw  it  all.  It  was  news 
to  her  that  the  Ormonds  were  going,  but  out  of 
regard  to  Katherine,  she  made  no  comment  now. 


THE   EVE    OF  DEPARTURE.  373 

She  hardly  knew  how  to  treat  her  friend.  She 
did  not  want  to  take  too  much  for  granted  in  the 
present  unacknowledged  state  of  affairs;  neither 
did  she  wish  to  be  tardy  in  welcoming  Katherine 
as  a  sister. 

Katherine  herself  settled  her  perplexities  for 
the  afternoon  by  disappearing.  No  one  knew 
where  she  was.  Her  mother  inquired  for  her 
several  times  with  considerable  impatience.  Made- 
line for  once  stood  her  sister's  defender.  "Do 
let  her  say  good-by  to  Pokonet  in  her  own  way," 
she  said.  "You  don't  need  her.  To-morrow  will 
be  plenty  of  time  to  see  to  the  packing." 

"But  she  might  have  said  where  she  was  going," 
complained  Mrs.  Ormond.  "Do  you  suppose  she 
may  have  gone  sailing  with  Fritz  Sheldon?  " 

"No,  he  is  working  with  Mr.  McKnight.  The 
Wise  Woman  just  said  so.  She  is  down  on  the 
piazza  with  Marguerite." 

"Well,  she  might  have  said  where  she  was 
going,"  repeated  Mrs.  Ormond. 

Katherine  came  home  in  time  for  tea,  and  made 
a  careful  toilet;  but  the  one  she  longed  for  did 
not  appear. 

"Poor  Fritz,  this  is  hard  on  him,"  said  Mar- 
guerite, as  she  approached  her  friend  on  the  piazza 
after  supper.  Katherine  nestled  close  to  her,  but 
said  nothing.  Marguerite  put  an  arm  around 
her. 

"The  Wise  Woman  has  been  here  this  after- 
noon. Are  you  jealous?  " 


374  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

Katherine  shook  her  head,  and  the  other  laughed 
at  her  novel  quiescence,  and  gave  her  a  loving 
squeeze. 

"  We  never  mentioned  you.  Now,  how  do  you 
feel?" 

Katherine  smiled. 

"Oh,  yes,  we  did.  The  Wise  Woman  asked 
where  you  were.  I  replied  that  I  did  n't  know. 
She  said  something  very  nice,  I  guess  I  sha'n't 
tell  you  what,  about  regret  at  your  going  away 
from  Pokonet.  I  agreed  and  —  that's  all.  In- 
deed, Katherine,  I  was  shocked  to  hear  of  your 
leaving.  What  shall  I  do  with  Fritz?"  asked 
Marguerite  tentatively. 

The  strangest  little  half-sigh,  half-sob,  broke 
from  Katherine. 

"Be  very  good  to  him,"  she  answered. 

Of  course,  after  that  there  was  no  need  for 
hesitation. 

"I  am  very  happy  about  it,"  said  Marguerite. 
"You  are  the  one  girl  in  all  the  world  I  should 
prefer  to  have  for  a  sister." 

The  charm  she  had  always  exerted  over  Kath- 
erine was  as  strong  as  ever.  The  latter  looked 
up  with  eyes  full  of  feeling,  and  the  two  kissed 
each  other. 

It  was  a  charming,  dreamy  evening.  The  moon 
was  at  the  half,  the  ailanthus  branches  stirred, 
the  sea  broke  on  the  sands  with  a  gentleness  which 
augured  favorably  for  the  success  of  the  wrecker 
already  working  to  liberate  the  schooner;  but 


THE   EVE   OF  DEPARTURE.  375 

Fritz  remained  away.  Katherine  would  not  have 
known  that  he  came  home  at  all  that  night,  except 
for  two  things.  One  was  a  noise  of  wheels  very 
early  the  next  morning,  which  waked  her  from  her 
light  slumbers.  Leaping  from  the  bed,  she  reached 
the  window  in  time  to  see  Fritz  and  Mr.  Hodgson 
driving  away  to  the  depot.  Apparently  Fritz 
thought  she  might  be  looking,  for  he  took  off  his 
hat  and  waved  it  toward  the  house.  She,  kneel- 
ing behind  the  slats  of  the  closed  blinds,  watched 
him  out  of  sight ;  then  the  smile  faded  from  her 
face,  and  she  was  stealing  back  to  bed  forlornly, 
when  her  eye  caught  something  white  beneath  the 
door. 

Her  glance  brightened,  and  she  stooped  to  pick 
up  a  letter.  She  opened  it  cautiously,  not  to  wake 
Madeline.  It  was  from  him,  and  it  flushed  her 
as  the  sunlight  reddens  a  rose. 

There  was  but  one  portion  of  it  that  would  bear 
publication,  and  that  was  where  the  writer  de- 
clared that  he  should  make  every  effort  to  spend 
that  evening  with  her,  although  it  might  after  all 
prove  impossible. 

She  surprised  those  most  interested  by  her 
gayety  at  the  breakfast-table,  and  her  spirits  were 
sustained  at  a  cheerful  pitch  during  the  packing 
of  her  trunk;  but  when  that  undertaking  was 
accomplished,  when  nothing  remained  for  her  to 
do,  the  unreasonableness,  the  aggravation  of  the 
situation  returned  upon  her,  and  grew  in  force. 

The  day  was  dull  and  overcast.    Marguerite  was 


376  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

busy  assisting  her  aunt;  Mrs.  Ormoiid  and  Made- 
line were  full  of  pleasurable  speculations  concern- 
ing the  coming  visit.  Katherine  had  read  her 
letter  until  she  could  recite  it  backward.  She 
suddenly  determined  to  go  to  see  the  Wise  Wo- 
man. Why  had  she  not  thought  of  it  sooner! 
Perhaps  that  clever  friend  might  yet  preserve  her 
from  her  distasteful  fate.  A  glow  warmed  the 
girl  as  she  thought  of  a  possible  reprieve ;  of  free- 
dom to  stay  on  here  where  the  sunny  days  and  the 
breezy  nights  under  the  waxing  moon  would  now 
be  doubly  sweet. 

"It  has  begun  to  rain,"  objected  Mrs.  Ormond, 
when  her  daughter  announced  her  intention. 

"  I  'm  afraid  you  have  forgotten  your  fairy 
tales,  mother,"  Katherine  replied.  "Did  the  puz- 
zled princess  ever  allow  a  little  rain  to  stand  in  the 
way  of  her  going  to  consult  the  Wise  Woman?" 

She  buttoned  her  mackintosh,  and  Mrs.  Or- 
mond made  no  further  objection.  There  was  an 
undercurrent  of  feeling  in  her  mind  that  the  girl 
was  bearing  up  well  under  a  disappointment.  It 
was  unfortunate  that  this  last  day  should  be  rainy. 
Let  the  child  enjoy  it,  if  she  could. 

Katherine  arrived  at  her  destination  rosy  from 
the  brief  struggle  with  the  wind.  Miss  McKuight 
received  her  cordially. 

"This  will  give  us  a  heavy  sea,  won't  it? "'  she 
asked.  "It  is  fortunate  the  schooner  got  off." 

"Is  she  off?"  asked  Katherine,  with  interest. 
Wherever  the  Mary  Leddy  might  sail,  no  breeze 


THE   EVE    OF  DEPARTURE.  377 

could  ever  bear  her  out  of  the  affectionate  memory 
of  one  woman. 

"Yes,  Jasper  saw  the  last  of  her  early  this 
morning,  after  helping  his  uncle  to  get  away. 
This  is  a  great  time  for  departures.  My  brother's 
is  only  a  short  trip,  but  I  hear  you  desert  Pokoiiet 
for  the  season,  to-morrow.  How  is  it  that  you 
did  n't  tell  me?" 

"It  came  upon  me  so  suddenly,"  —  Katherine 
seated  herself  close  to  her  friend,  —  "  and  since 
then  I  have  been  in  a  sort  of  dream.  I  only 
waked  up  half  an  hour  ago,  when  my  trunk  was 
actually  packed,  and  then  I  was  panic-stricken, 
and  I  flew  to  you,  as  usual." 

Miss  McKnight  regarded  her  in  silence,  her 
kindly  gaze  seeming  to  sink  into  the  soul  that  was 
reaching  out  to  her. 

"Think,  dear  Wise  Woman,  what  is  before  me. 
Do  you  know  what  it  is  that  I  am  going  to? " 

"Yes  your  mother  read  me  Mrs.  Arlington's 
letter." 

"There  isn't  any  help  for  me,  unless  you  help 
me,"  said  Katherine  beseechingly.  "You  have 
so  much  influence  with  mother,  I  thought,  possibly, 
if  you  came  over  and  talked  to  her,  and  promised 
to  take  care  of  me  "  She  paused,  and  her 

appealing  eyes  said  the  rest. 

Miss  McKnight  smiled  slightly.  "I  am  afraid 
it  is  impossible,  my  little  Katherine,"  she  re- 
turned gently.  "I  have  thought  of  it,  myself, 
and  wished  I  could  do  it,  but  I  don't  see  my  way. 


378  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

This  is  not  a  time  when  I  can  step  in  between  you 
and  your  mother." 

The  girl  blushed.  "Why?  Do  you  — don't 
you  "  —  She  stammered  and  stopped. 

The  elder  woman  shook  her  white  head,  still 
with  the  kind  smile.  "I  suspect  that  just  now 
you  are  a  great  responsibility." 

Katherine  was  silent  a  moment,  then  she  came 
still  closer  to  her  friend's  chair.  "But  you  like 
—  Fritz,"  she  said  softly. 

"And  your  mother  doesn't,"  added  Miss  Mc- 
Knight  quietly. 

The  girl  bit  her  lip.  She  had  been  too  en- 
grossed with  her  own  feelings  ever  to  look  this  fact 
full  in  the  face. 

Her  friend  continued:  "Perhaps  it  is  as  well 
for  you  to  go  away  now,  before  anything  happens, 
and  wait "  — 

Katherine  caught  Miss  McKnight's  hand  be- 
tween both  her  own,  interrupting  her  with  a  sort 
of  eager  embarrassment.  "But  several  very  nice 
things  have  happened,"  she  said  naively.  "It  is 
too  late  to  help  anything.  You  might  as  well 
keep  me." 

"Does  your  mother  know?  " 

"No." 

"Katherine!" 

"But  I  told  you  I  have  been  in  a  dream.  Be- 
side, how  can  I  tell  her?  " 

"It  will  be  hard.  You  will  have  need  of  great 
patience." 


THE   EVE    OF  DEPARTURE.  379 

"How  much  patience  ought  I  to  have?  How 
can  I  listen  to  one  word  against  him?" 

"You  will  have  to  make  up  your  mind  to  bear 
that,  and  to  wait." 

Katherine  looked  up  at  her  friend  with  eyes  in 
which  happiness  struggled  with  perplexity. 

"What  a  beautiful  thing  youth  is,"  thought 
Miss  McKnight,  watching  the  changes  that  flitted 
over  the  sensitive  face.  "Oh,  there  's  nothing 
half  so  sweet  in  life  as  love's  young  dream." 

"He  is  a  man  worth  waiting  for,  Katherine," 
she  said  aloud. 

"Then  I  have  pleased  you,  at  all  events,"  re- 
turned the  girl. 

"Yes,  and  so  has  he.  I  scarcely  dare  tell  either 
of  you  how  much." 

The  first  suggestion  of  tears  Katherine  had  ever 
seen  in  Miss  McKnight's  eyes  veiled  their  bright- 
ness as  she  spoke. 

"Think  what  you  will  be  to  me  now,"  said  the 
girl  impulsively.  "I  shall  come  to  you  and  beg 
you  to  talk  about  him  when  mother  "  — 

"Wait,  dear.     I  am  so  sorry  for  your  mother." 

"So  am  I;  but  what  reason  has  she "  — 

"  Yes,  yes ;  but  she  has  given  her  whole  life  to 
her  children,  as  every  loving  mother  does,  and 
now  you  are  going  to  disappoint  her.  Try  to 
keep  her  standpoint  in  mind  continually,  when  the 
matter  comes  to  discussion." 

"Then  you  wouldn't  advise  me  to  —  to  do  any- 
thing without  her  consent?  " 


380  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"No,  indeed.  You  owe  her  everything.  You 
can't  help  loving  Fritz,  but  you  can  comfort  her 
heart  by  letting  her  know  that  you  love  her  even 
while  she  is  hurting  your  feelings,  as  perhaps  she 
will.  Prepare  yourself  beforehand  to  be  very 
patient.  There  is  a  wise  and  useful  old  proverb, 
I  think  it  is  Persian :  '  Of  the  unspoken  word  you 
are  master.  The  spoken  word  is  master  of  you. ' 
It  will  be  a  good  saying  for  you  to  keep  in  mind." 

"Then  I  must  be  resigned  to  going  to  the 
Allingtons',"  said  Katherine,  with  a  rueful  little 
smile,  "and  to  letting  Mr.  McKnight  carry  Fritz 
off  at  the  very  moment  when  —  when  —  and  he 
has  had  to  stay  away  all  these  two  last  days!" 
she  finished  incoherently. 

Miss  McKnight  laughed ;  but  she  caressed  the 
girl  with  unusual  warmth. 

"I  congratulate  you,  Katherine,  in  spite  of  all 
the  discipline,  present  and  to  come.  I  would 
rather  see  you  married  to  Fritz  Sheldon  than  to 
any  man  I  know." 

Altogether,  Katherine's  visit  to  the  Wise  Wo- 
man was  satisfactory,  although  she  had  failed  in 
her  object.  She  came  away  feeling  braced  and 
encouraged,  and  greeted  her  mother,  when  she 
returned,  with  a  more  cheerful  face  than  that  with 
which  she  had  left  her. 

"The  wind  almost  takes  one's  breath  away," 
she  announced  brightly. 

"Yes,"  returned  Mrs.  Ormond.  "Mr.  Hodg- 
son says  they  are  likely  now  to  have  a  '  spell  o' 


THE   EVE    OF  DEPARTURE.  381 

weather. '  How  lucky  we  are,  to  be  leaving  in  the 
nick  of  time." 

"Lucky  to  be  going  to  miss  a  big  storm?" 
returned  Katherme  wistfully,  as  she  pulled  off 
her  Tarn  o'  Shanter. 

"How  is  Miss  McKnight  enduring  the  day?" 

"She  seems  happy.     Obdurate,  though." 

"What  about?" 

"I'm  afraid  you  would  think  me  a  hardened 
sinner,  if  I  told  you." 

Mrs.  Ormond  looked  into  the  bright  face 
fondly.  "You  are  the  best  child  I  know  of,"  she 
said. 

"Even  if  I  don't  want  to  leave  Pokonet?  " 

"But  you  behave  so  well  about  it,  my  dear," 
returned  the  mother,  deprecating  by  her  tone  a 
reference  to  anything  unpleasant. 

"I  have  been  trying  to  get  the  Wise  Woman 
to  persuade  you  to  let  her  keep  me." 

Mrs.  Ormond  looked  gently  reproachful.  "You 
show  an  obstinacy  in  this  matter,  Katherine,  that 
exhibits  you  in  a  new  phase." 

"Oh,  I  am  obstinate,  mother,"  returned  the 
girl,  a  certain  excitement  appearing  through  her 
cheerfulness,  as  the  thought  of  her  heart's  happi- 
ness sent  a  flash  through  her.  "However,  the 
Wise  Woman  wouldn't  hear  to  me." 

"Edna  has  far  too  good  taste  to  interfere  like 
that,"  said  Mrs.  Ormond,  picking  up  the  book 
she  had  laid  down  at  her  daughter's  entrance. 

"  She  said  she  would  not  have  the  responsibility 


382  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

of  me,"  pursued  Katherine.  Her  pulses  hurried. 
She  wished  her  mother  would  question  her.  She 
longed  to  tell  her  the  truth. 

But  Mrs.  Orraond  was  already  reabsorbed  in 
her  story.  Since  Katherine  had  given  up  an 
annoying  project,  and  was  doing  so  cheerfully, 
she  asked  no  more  of  her. 

However,  Mrs.  Ormond's  equanimity  was  not 
to  remain  serene.  Fritz,  not  without  some  diffi- 
culty in  overriding  objections  to  his  haste,  suc- 
ceeded in  returning  to  Pokonet  that  evening  in  a 
wild  storm  of  wind  and  rain. 

The  family,  their  numbers  not  as  usual  aug- 
mented by  the  McKnights,  were  sitting  about  the 
living-room  in  unusual  quiet,  all  but  Katherine 
occupied  with  reading  or  fancy  work.  She  held 
a  magazine,  but  her  attention  wandered,  and  her 
hearing  was  sharpened  to  take  note  of  every 
sound.  A  hundred  times  some  freak  of  the  wind 
as  it  whipped  the  storm-beaten  branches  or  wor- 
ried a  window  blind  misled  her,  and  made  her 
heart  leap ;  but  at  last  it  came,  —  the  unmistak- 
able rush  of  wheels  approaching  through  the  rain, 
nearer,  nearer  to  the  farmhouse. 

Her  flushed  face,  half -eager,  half -shy,  glanced 
up  at  Marguerite.  The  latter  had  heard  too,  and 
risen  quickly.  Meeting  Katherine 's  telltale  look, 
she  recollected  herself  and  sank  back  into  her 
chair.  It  was  no  longer  her  right  to  be  first  to 
meet  her  brother. 

Katherine  endured  a  moment  of  painful  hesita- 


THE   EVE    OF  DEPARTURE.  383 

tion,  then  she  arose.  She  shrank  from  going  to 
meet  Fritz,  but  she  shrank  still  more  from  wel- 
coming him  here  in  the  family  circle.  The  inten- 
sity of  the  letter  she  still  carried  warned  her. 

She  slipped  out  of  the  room,  closing  the  door 
behind  her,  and  when  Sheldon  entered  the  house, 
he  saw  her  standing  there,  smiling,  blushing,  shy, 
in  the  dim  little  hall.  With  a  joyful  exclamation 
he  stepped  forward. 

The  wind  Katherine  loved  shook  the  old  door 
and  rattled  its  latch  boisterously,  as  she  yielded 
to  her  lover's  strong  embrace,  and  their  lips  met. 

In  the  sitting-room,  Mr.  Hodgson  looked  up 
from  his  paper.  "I  guess  it  was  Fritz  come  in," 
he  remarked,  beginning  to  rise. 

Marguerite  smilingly  pulled  him  back  into  his 
chair. 

"Don't  leave  me,  uncle  Silas,"  she  said. 

"Hey?"  he  returned,  looking  over  his  specta- 
cles. 

"I  say  don't  leave  me." 

"  But  I  said  that  was  Fritz  come  in  a  minute 
ago." 

"Well,  I  dare  say  the  boy  is  drenched.  Let 
him  go  and  get  dry  the  first  thing." 

As  she  finished  speaking,  the  object  of  her  re- 
marks entered  the  room.  The  whole  place  seemed 
vivified  by  his  presence.  Katherine  did  not  reap- 
pear. She  had  stolen  upstairs  upon  being  ap- 
prised of  Sheldon's  immediate  intention. 

"Good  evening,  everybody,"  he  said,  in  hearty 


384  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

tones,  and  the  company  responded  in  their  various 
fashions.  Madeline,  who  had  been  alive  to  the 
silent  interview  in  the  hall,  regarded  him  with 
critical,  yet  approving  eyes.  His  was,  especially 
just  now,  the  sort  of  face  a  woman  likes  to  look 
upon. 

Mrs.  Ormond  regarded  his  greeting  as  a  rather 
noisy  interruption,  and  returned  to  her  novel  as 
hastily  as  might  be.  She  had  just  reached  its 
climax. 

"Set  down,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Hodgson,  pushing 
up  his  spectacles  and  crossing  his  legs.  "Give 
an  account  o'  yourself.  Tell  us  all  about  it." 

"I  will,  later,  although  it  will  make  a  prosy 
story.  First,  I  must  disturb  Mrs.  Ormond. 
Mrs.  Ormond,  will  you  give  me  ten  minutes  ?  " 

The  lady  looked  up  from  her  book.  She  was 
loth  to  leave  it,  and  her  face  plainly  indicated  the 
fact. 

"Did  you  speak  to  me,  Mr.  Sheldon?"  she 
asked,  holding  her  novel  with  the  evident  desire 
to  return  to  it  immediately. 

"yes.  You  go  quite  early  in  the  morning,  I 
believe.  I  have  something  important  to  say  to 
you,  else  I  wouldn't  disturb  you  now." 

Madeline  admired  his  'self -possession,  the  sim- 
plicity which  was  always  a  part  of  his  unostenta- 
tious strength. 

Mrs.  Ormond  stared  at  him  in  genuine  surprise, 
and  let  her  book  slowly  close  on  her  finger.  "  You 
—  you  don't  want  to  see  me  alone,  do  you?  " 


THE   EVE    OF  DEPARTURE.  385 

"Yes,  if  you  please."  The  situation  was  cer- 
tainly growing  awkward  for  Fritz,  Madeline  con- 
sidered ;  but  it  was  likely  to  become  more  so  be- 
fore it  was  less.  She  wished  intensely  that  she 
might  be  an  invisible  listener  to  the  conversation 
about  to  ensue  in  the  parlor,  whither  Fritz  con- 
ducted his  astonished  companion. 

He  lighted  the  large  lamp  on  the  centre -table, 
and  they  sat  down  upon  two  haircloth  chairs. 

"Ugh!  it  is  cold  in  here,"  observed  Mrs.  Or- 
mond,  shuddering  obviously. 

To  her  increased  surprise  Fritz  arose,  went  into 
the  hall,  and  returned  with  a  shawl,  which  he 
placed  about  her  shoulders.  He  was  not  going 
to  allow  the  interview  to  be  postponed  on  account 
of  the  weather. 

To  take  serious  cognizance  of  Mrs.  Ormond, 
to  consider  her  attitude  toward  him,  was  a  duty 
which  had  come  to  him  along  with  his  happiness, 
and  he  had  given  his  mind  to  it  at  leisure  inter- 
vals since  yesterday. 

Closing  the  door  again,  he  took  the  chair  facing 
her.  "I  have  not  been  fortunate  enough  as  yet 
to  win  your  friendship,  Mrs.  Ormond,"  he  began, 
without  circumlocution.  "Isn't  that  so? " 

The  astonished  woman  recoiled  from  his  blunt- 
ness. 

"Why,  Mr.  Sheldon,  you  surprise  me.  Have 
I  been  guilty  of  treating  you  in  a  manner  "  — 

"Yes,  that  is  it,"  he  interrupted,  impatient  of 
evasions,  yet  smiling  at  her.  "You  have  treated 


386  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

me  in  a  manner.  Now,  under  most  circumstances, 
I  shouldn't  annoy  you  about  this.  You  have  no 
reason  to  like  me  that  I  know  of;  but  the  excep- 
tional circumstance  has  come  about,  under  which 
it  matters  vitally  to  me  whether  or  no  you  look 
upon  me  favorably." 

"  Heavens !  Madeline !  "  thought  Mrs.  Ormond, 
forgetting  her  novel. 

"  Have  you  any  special  fault  to  find  with  me  ? 
Is  there  anything  in  my  life  or  habits  that  you 
can  specify  as  disagreeable  to  you?  "  he  went  on, 
looking  seriously  into  his  companion's  face. 

She  began  to  find  the  situation  flattering. 
Fritz  was  by  no  means  the  kind  of  man  whose 
earnestness  can  be  lightly  met.  She  had  long 
been  forced  reluctantly  to  respect  him,  and  now 
he  was  appealing  to  her  mercy. 

"No,  I  cannot  say  that  there  is,"  she  returned 
with  condescension.  "I  have  not  intended  to 
convey  any  criticism  of  you  by  my  actions.  What 
right  have  I?" 

"Every  right,"  responded  Fritz  promptly.  "I 
love  your  daughter." 

Mrs.  Ormond  swelled  with  a  comfortable  sense 
of  importance.  Poor  fellow,  he  certainly  had  a 
fine  face.  What  it  was  to  be  the  mother  of  a 
belle !  Yet  even  now  a  wistful  pang  assailed  her. 
If  only  it  were  Jasper  sitting  there  and  looking 
at  her  with  such  penetrating  eyes. 

She  did  not  speak  at  once,  and  Sheldon  was 
surprised  that  she  did  not  seem  startled  by  his 


THE   EVE    OF  DEPARTURE.  387 

blunt  declaration.  On  the  contrary,  her  expres- 
sion was  almost  gracious. 

She  slightly  bowed  her  head  with  dignity.  She 
had  been  through  a  similar  scene  before,  and  she 
replied  to  him  now  with  a  virtuous  phrase  which 
had  served  her  well  on  the  previous  occasion. 

"  I  cannot  coerce  my  children  in  these  matters, 
Mr.  Sheldon." 

Relief  lighted  up  Fritz's  strong  features. 
"Then  you  are  willing  to  accept  me  as  a  son-in- 
law?"  he  asked. 

She  regarded  him  kindly  in  her  absolute  cer- 
tainty. "I  think  there  will  be  no  question  of 
that,"  she  answered. 

"Thank  you,  Mrs.  Ormond!  "  He  would  have 
seized  her  hand  in  his  gratitude. 

"You  misunderstand  me,"  she  returned  hastily. 
"  I  mean  that  my  daughter  will  not  answer  you  as 
you  hope." 

"But  she  has  done  so." 

Mrs.  Ormond  stammered  in  her  bewilderment. 
"  Has  done  so  —  wishes  to  marry  you  —  Made- 
line!" 

"Pardon  me,"  said  Fritz,  gravely  smiling.  "I 
had  forgotten  for  the  moment  that  you  had  two 
daughters.  My  mind  holds  but  one  idea  —  Kath- 
erine." 

"Katherine!"  Mrs.  Ormond  repeated  the 
name  in  startled  accents,  and  rose  to  her  feet, 
pressing  her  hand  to  her  heart.  She  had  received 
a  genuine  shock.  This  was  no  longer  a  comedy. 


388  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

Kapidly  her  mind  reviewed  a  hundred  proofs  that 
what  this  young  man  stated  was  true.  How  la- 
mentably blind  and  careless  she  had  been !  But 
Katherine  would  be  amenable.  She  always  was. 
Just  as  she  had  given  up  Pokonet,  so  would  she 
give  up  this  ineligible  suitor  at  her  mother's  bid- 
ding. 

"It  is  my  duty,"  she  began  aloud,  although  her 
breath  came  short,  "not  to  allow  you  to  be  misled 
by  false  hopes." 

"Thank  you;  but  they  are  not  false." 

"They  are,  Mr.  Sheldon.  It  is  my  duty  to  say 
so  at  once." 

The  expression  of  her  crimson  face  showed 
Fritz  that  her  attitude  was  precisely  what  he  had 
at  first  feared  it  would  be. 

"A  moment  ago,"  he  answered,  "you  declared 
that  you  would  not  coerce  your  child." 

"Katherine  is  very  inexperienced." 

"I  would  not  have  her  experienced  in  these 
matters,"  said  Sheldon,  rising  also,  and  looking 
down  upon  his  companion,  who  was  trembling 
with  excitement.  "We  love  each  other,  Mrs. 
Orrnond,"  he  continued  calmly.  "I  would  rather 
marry  her  with  your  consent  than  without  it,  but 
life  is  before  us,  and  we  belong  to  each  other." 

The  lady  looked  up,  dumb  with  amazement  at 
this  audacity.  His  eyes  even  more  than  his  words 
assured  her  that  she  had  two  to  reckon  with  in 
this  problem.  There  was  nothing  "amenable  " 
in  the  expression  of  Sheldon's  respectful  face. 


THE   EVE    OF  DEPARTURE.  389 

"I  assure  you,"  she  replied,  when  she  could 
command  herself,  "that  Katherine  belongs  to  me 
as  yet,  and  you  will  discover  it.  I  will  bid  you 
good  night,  Mr.  Sheldon." 

The  dignified  bearing  with  which  she  swept 
from  the  room  lasted  until  she  entered  Katherine 's 
chamber  above-stairs. 

The  girl  rose  at  her  entrance,  and  quailed  be- 
fore her  imposing,  silent  gaze.  Only  an  instant, 
then  she  ran  to  the  angry  woman  and  threw  her 
arms  around  her  neck. 

"Mother,  let  us  be  kind  to  each  other  through 
it  all,"  she  said  breathlessly. 

"Katherine,  how  could  you!"  asked  Mrs.  Or- 
mond,  with  deep  reproach. 

"I  don't  know,"  responded  the  girl,  close  in  her 
mother's  neck.  "I  didn't  mean  to.  I  just  loved 
him  without  knowing  what  was  happening." 

"You  must  have  known  that  it  meant  choosing 
between  your  mother  and  that  struggling,  un- 
known young  man  whom  I  could  never  accept." 

"I  knew  you  would  say  hard  things,  dear,  so 
go  right  on,  and  get  them  all  said;  while  I  have 
my  arms  around  you,  it  won't  hurt  so  much." 

Mrs.  Ormond  made  futile  attempts  to  move  her 
daughter  back  where  she  could  see  her.  It  cer- 
tainly detracted  from  the  dignity  and  force  of  her 
remarks  to  be  obliged  to  say  them  over  the  shoul- 
der of  the  culprit,  and  the  smooth  cheek  of  the 
latter  against  her  own  was  disturbing  to  her  train 
of 


390  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"I  refuse  to  regard  it  too  seriously,  Katherine, 
for  you  are  a  good,  dutiful  child,  and  in  the  end 
have  never  in  your  life  refused  to  give  up  what  I 
asked  you  to  for  my  sake." 

"I  must  this  time,  though,  dear,  because  it 
isn't  I  alone  any  more.  It  is  Fritz,  too.  I  shall 
do  just  as  you  say,  of  course,  but  I  have  to  feel 
all  this  that  has  poured  into  me  of  late,  and  it 
will  burn  me  up  if  you  shut  it  in,  mother;  it  will 
burn  me  up!"  The  low,  excited  speech  finished 
in  a  sob,  and  Katherine 's  frame  was  so  racked 
with  weeping  that  her  mother  put  aside  all  thought 
of  argument  in  endeavors  to  soothe  her.  She 
would  make  herself  ill,  and  possibly  be  unable  to 
travel  in  the  morning.  The  thought  was  most 
disquieting. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE   RECEPTION. 

THE  autumn  had  come.  Summer  was  a  mem- 
ory. Its  high  light  to  Mrs.  Ormoiid  and  Made- 
line had  been  the  visit  to  the  Alliugtons.  The 
mother's  pride  had  been  delightfully  flattered  by 
the  success  her  pretty  daughter  had  made.  Nev- 
ertheless, she  told  herself  that  she  was  never  to 
enjoy  undisturbed  pleasure  in  this  world.  Kath- 
erine  was  a  source  either  of  annoyance  or  anxiety 
all  the  time  they  were  at  Bar  Harbor.  Mrs.  Or- 
mond  could  not  deny  that  she  behaved  well. 
True,  only  her  body  was  the  AUingtons'  guest, 
her  heart  was  ever  straying,  but  it  was  a  meek 
and  obliging  little  body  that  sailed,  and  played 
tennis,  and  danced,  whenever  it  was  asked. 

It  was  intolerable  to  have  a  letter  coming  to 
the  girl  in  the  same  masculine  handwriting  every 
day.  Mrs.  Ormoiid  was  in  constant  dread  lest 
their  hostess  should  discover  the  identity  of  the 
writer;  yet  something  restrained  her  from  forbid- 
ding the  frequency  of  those  letters.  The  radiance 
had  gone  out  of  Katherine's  face.  It  was  patent 
to  her  family  that  she  was  enduring  and  waiting. 

"She  begins  to  look  like  a  plant  in  a  cellar," 


392  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

said  Gilbert  bluntly  to  his  mother,  on  the  morn- 
ing when  he  was  obliged  to  bid  the  Allingtons 
good-by. 

"Yes,  it  is  rather  too  cold  and  bracing  here  for 
her  after  the  Long  Island  coast,"  returned  Mrs. 
Ormond.  She  had  discovered  before  this  that 
Gilbert  was  actively,  and  Madeline  passively,  op- 
posed to  her  attitude  regarding  Fritz  Sheldon,  so 
the  subject  had  been  tacitly  avoided  among  them. 

Gilbert  ignored  her  reply.  "Katherine  has 
plenty  of  common  sense,"  he  said.  "If  you  gave 
her  your  sympathy,  and  she  was  not  made  to  feel 
that  she  stood  alone  in  the  matter  nearest  her 
heart,  she  would  endure  the  separation  all  right, 
no  doubt.  As  it  is,  you  probably  see  that  she 
does  n't  eat  anything.  We  must  take  her  as  we 
find  her.  Pretty  good  sort,  too,  only  it  is  the 
kind  capable  of  pining  to  death.  You  want  to 
remember  that,  mother,  for  the  present  and  fu- 
ture." 

So  it  will  be  seen  that  there  were  thorns  in 
Mrs.  Ormond's  garden  of  roses,  and  when  the 
glamorous  summer  life  was  over,  and  the  return 
to  Montaigne  was  made,  the  thorns  did  not  lessen, 
for  she  was  confronted  by  a  glad  and  determined 
lover,  who  came  with  Gilbert  to  meet  them  at  the 
train  in  New  York,  and  greeted  herself  and  seized 
upon  Katherine  with  an  air  of  assurance  and  pro- 
prietorship for  which  she  had  not  been  prepared. 

"He  is  a  most  indelicate  person,"  she  declared 
to  Gilbert.  "Does  he  suppose  he  is  coming  to 


THE   RECEPTION.  393 

our  house  right  along-,  as  if  it  were  a  settled 
thing?" 

"Oh,  you  can  forbid  him  the  house,  if  you 
like,"  said  Gilbert  indifferently.  "It  will  be 
rather  inconvenient  and  embarrassing  for  Kather- 
ine  to  meet  him  elsewhere,  though." 

Mrs.  Ormond  gasped. 

"You  can't  help  it;  I  can't  help  it,"  went  on 
Gilbert.  "He  owns  her.  Look  at  her  now." 

Soon  afterward,  Gilbert  called  upon  Miss  Mc- 
Knight. 

"I  think  you  will  have  to  be  charitable  and 
help  mother  out,"  he  remarked.  "Sheldon  comes 
to  the  house  constantly,  and  mother  hasn't  yet 
either  taken  him  to  task,  or  welcomed  him.  She 
is  on  the  fence,  in  a  very  uncertain  and  not  too 
dignified  position.  I  should  be  sorry  to  have  her 
tumble  off.  If  you  would  kindly  help  her  to  get 
down  on  the  right  side,  we  should  all  be  infinitely 
obliged  to  you." 

Acting  upon  this  hint,  Miss  McKnight  in  a  few 
days  went  to  call  on  the  Ormonds.  She  had 
already  had  plenty  of  occasions  to  observe  Kath- 
erine,  with  an  appreciation  of  the  girl's  situation. 
Her  lover  was  unwelcome  in  her  mother's  home, 
her  enjoyment  of  him  thwarted  and  repressed  in 
a  hundred  ways.  No  wonder  that  when  he  was 
not  by,  her  eyes  were  serious  and  her  smile  rare. 

To-day,  when  Miss  McKnight  called,  Katherine 
was  away.  That  was  as  she  had  hoped;  and  after 
she  had  listened  to  a  glowing  description  from 


394  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

Madeline  and  Mrs.  Ormond  of  the  joys  of  their 
visit  at  the  Allingtons',  she  took  her  cue. 

"Mrs.  Allington  gives  you  a  good  character, 
also,"  she  remarked.  "She  was  speaking  to  me 
about  you  yesterday;  and  she  asked  me  a  leading 
question.  She  asked  if  Katherine  were  engaged 
to  Fritz  Sheldon." 

"I  hope  you  said  no,"  returned  Mrs.  Ormond 
energetically. 

"Oh,  mother,  what's  the  use,  with  the  Wise 
Woman?"  suggested  Madeline  lazily. 

"I  won't  deny  that  I  am  being  tried  beyond 
endurance,  Edna!  "  ejaculated  Mrs.  Ormond,  with 
nervous  irritation. 

"I  saw  how  matters  were  going,  at  Pokonet," 
said  Miss  McKnight.  "You  know  my  estimate 
of  Fritz,  so  you  will  not  be  surprised  to  hear  that 
I  regard  the  affair  more  hopefully  than  you  do." 

"I  tell  mother  he  is  a  rising  man,"  put  in 
Madeline. 

"And  a  very  prepossessing  one  to  most  people," 
remarked  Miss  McKnight. 

"People  without  daughters,"  suggested  Mrs. 
Ormond  bitterly. 

"Oh  yes,  and  with.  If  this  affair  of  Kather- 
ine's  could  have  been  postponed  a  year,  there 
would  be  a  dozen  mothers  in  Montaigne  eager  to 
take  him  off  your  hands.  I  needn't  even  post- 
pone it  so  long.  There  are  plenty  now.  I  per- 
sonally feel  very  happy  that  Katherine  has  chosen 
him." 


THE   RECEPTION.  395 

"I  suppose  you  told  Mrs.  Allington  so,"  said 
Mrs.  Ormond  sarcastically. 

"No,  I  didn't.  I  told  her  that  the  engagement 
had  not  been  announced  to  me,  and  that  as  I  was 
an  intimate  friend  of  the  family,  I  did  not  doubt 
I  should  be  among  the  first  to  hear  of  it." 

"That  was  very  discreet  of  you,  I  am  sure," 
returned  Mrs.  Ormond.  Her  dear  Edna  had  not 
given  perfect  satisfaction  the  past  summer,  still  she 
could  not  announce  herself  as  the  intimate  friend 
of  the  family  too  often  to  please  Mrs.  Ormond. 

"Mrs.  Allington  went  on  to  say  very  pleasant 
things  about  Fritz  "  — 

"Did  she  really?" 

"Certainly.  One  never  hears  anything  else 
from  anybody  but  you."  Miss  McKnight  smiled 
encouragingly,  and  Mrs.  Ormond  felt  doubtful. 
Was  she  fighting  a  shadow  ?  She  could  not  find 
any  serious  fault  with  Fritz.  If  she  could  only 
be  sure  that  the  best  people  were  going  to  con- 
tinue to  countenance  and  encourage  him. 

"What  I  came  for  to-day,  really,  was  to  talk 
to  you  about  this  matter,"  said  Miss  McKnight 
frankly.  "I  know  I  am  taking  a  liberty,  but  my 
regard  for  you  all,  and  my  vital  interest  in  every- 
thing that  touches  Katherine,  impelled  me." 

"We  are  glad  you  did  come,"  said  Madeline, 
flinging  her  mother  a  glance.  "What  we  need  is 
a  fresh  idea." 

"Yes,  say  whatever  you  like,  Edna,"  added 
Mrs.  Ormond  dispiritedly. 


396  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"I  suppose  you  have  no  expectation  of  turning 
Katherine  from  this  allegiance." 

"If  I  had  any  support,  I  should  have  consider- 
able hope  of  it;  but  I  have  no  support." 

Madeline  lifted  her  eyebrows  at  her  mother's 
words.  It  was  not  the  first  time  she  had  been 
reproached  for  going  over  to  the  enemy,  but  Kath- 
erine's  attitude  and  situation  had  touched  her  into 
real  sympathy.  Moreover,  the  shrewd  girl,  less 
narrow  than  her  mother,  suspected  that  Fritz 
Sheldon  would  be  a  credit  to  them  in  time  to 
come. 

"Then,"  said  Miss  McKnight,  "my  advice  to 
you  is  not  to  allow  the  fact  of  the  engagement  to 
leak  out.  That  method  is  always  undignified, 
and  in  this  case  I  suppose  you  would  be  loth  to 
allow  people  to  suppose  that  you  were  not  pleased 
with  Katherine 's  choice." 

Mrs.  Ormond  bit  her  lip,  and  faced  her  friend 
with  troubled  eyes. 

"The  thing  to  do,"  continued  the  visitor,  "is 
to  give  a  reception  for  the  express  purpose  of  an- 
nouncing the  engagement." 

Mrs.  Ormond  writhed  in  her  chair. 

"I  should  be  delighted  to  do  it  myself,"  said 
Miss  McKnight,  "but  it  would  be  better  to  have 
it  right  here,  and  I  should  hope  that  you  would  in- 
vite me  to  help  you  receive.  Marguerite,  too." 

"You  mean  to  go  on  being  as  helpful  to  those 
young  people  as  ever?"  said  Mrs.  Ormond.  "I 
thought  last  season  they  were  only  a  fad  with  you." 


THE   RECEPTION.  397 

Miss  McKnight  knew  that  this  was  no  lightly  - 
put  question. 

"I  could  not  consent  to  forego  their  friendship, 
I  assure  you,"  she  answered;  then,  determined 
for  Katherine's  sake  to  bring  every  persuasion 
to  bear,  she  decided,  against  her  own  taste  and 
desire,  to  bring  her  nephew's  name  into  the  dis- 
cussion. "Even  if  my  energy  flagged  in  cultivat- 
ing them,  Jasper  would  be  assiduous  enough  for 
us  both.  He  likes  Fritz  thoroughly,  and  Margue- 
rite has  a  very  strong  influence  over  him." 

Madeline  kept  her  eyes  fixed  on  some  fancy 
work,  but  Mrs.  Ormond  leaned  forward  in  her 
interest. 

"And  you  do  not  object?"  she  exclaimed. 

"I  told  you  some  time  ago  that  I  should  never 
attempt  to  influence  Jasper." 

"But  now  that  it  comes  home  to  you?" 

"Oh,  I  think  you  misunderstand  me.  Margue- 
rite is  friendly  to  him.  Nothing  more,"  said  Miss 
McKnight  calmly.  She  knew  that  if  she  exhib- 
ited a  trace  of  the  dread  which  she  felt  of  starting 
a  rumor,  the  rumor  would  be  quickly  set  on  foot. 
"But  as  for  giving  Marguerite  my  most  affection- 
ate approval,  that  she  has  ungrudgingly,"  she 
added. 

Mrs.  Ormond  grew  thoughtful.  What  was 
good  enough  for  Edna  McKnight  ought  to  be 
good  enough  for  her.  A  certain  relief  and  resig- 
nation stole  over  her. 

Late    that    afternoon,   Katherine    came    home. 


398  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

Her  mother  regarded  her  critically,  and  was  not 
altogether  satisfied  with  the  firm,  controlled  ex- 
pression which  had  of  late  grown  about  her  lips 
and  eyes. 

"Where  have  you  been?  "  she  asked. 

"To  see  Marguerite." 

"Do  you  think  she  would  like  to  receive  with 
us  at  a  reception  I  am  going  to  give  in  a  couple 
of  weeks?  " 

Katherine  looked  up,  astonished  and  pleased. 
"I  am  glad  you  are  going  to  ask  her,"  she  said. 

"We  naturally  would  ask  her,  for  the  reception 
is  to  be  the  occasion  of  announcing  your  engage- 
ment." 

"Mother!  "  In  a  second,  Katherine's  arms  were 
about  her  mother's  neck,  and  she  was  kissing  her 
again  and  again,  and  pressing  against  hers  a  rose- 
leaf  cheek  wet  with  dew. 

"There,  there,"  said  Mrs.  Ormond;  "what  a 
fuss!"  but  she  looked  happy,  too,  and  "teary 
'round  the  lashes." 

Katherine  waited  until  she  was  alone  with  her 
sister  before  she  asked:  "Has  the  Wise  Woman 
been  here  this  afternoon?  " 

Madeline  replied  in  the  affirmative,  and  Kath- 
erine smiled  like  one  satisfied. 

The  reception  took  place,  and  was  a  pleasant 
affair. 

"Don't  look  so  absurdly  happy!"  Mrs.  Or- 
mond said  to  Katherine,  with  a  half -vexed  laugh, 
before  they  went  downstairs;  but  none  of  the 


THE   RECEPTION.  399 

guests  could  have  suspected  that  their  gracious 
hostess  had  ever  known  a  moment's  disapproval 
of  the  young  people,  upon  whom  congratulations 
and  good  wishes  were  rained  during  three  long 
hours. 

Marguerite  Laird  smiled  a  little  satirically  as 
she  stood  looking  regal  beside  Madeline's  willowy 
prettiness.  She  was  recalling  that  long-ago  expe- 
rience in  this  very  room,  when  the  girl  now  chat- 
tering to  her  so  gayly  had  bowed  her  out  with  airs 
of  patronage.  Times  had  indeed  changed.  One 
proof  of  it  was  the  glance  she  was  receiving  from 
time  to  time  from  Dr.  McKnight.  The  young 
man  was  doing  his  duty  gallantly  in  the  crowded 
rooms,  and  heroically  refrained  from  claiming 
more  than  this  occasional  refreshment  of  the  eyes. 
Mrs.  Ormond,  appreciative  of  his  kindness  and 
his  savoirfaire,  coveted  him  more  than  ever. 

"That  cold-hearted  girl,"  she  thought,  mentally 
apostrophizing  Marguerite ;  yet  she  approved  her 
cold-heartedness.  If  she  would  continue  to  hold 
Gilbert  and  Jasper  in  strictly  Platonic  regard, 
Mrs.  Ormond  was  prepared  to  acknowledge  her, 
and  give  her  the  friendship  due  to  Katherine's 
sister-in-law. 

Dr.  McKnight,  however,  took  quite  a  different 
point  of  view  from  Mrs.  Ormond's.  When  Mar- 
guerite came  home  from  Pokonet,  and  he  was 
again  her  neighbor,  he  began  to  manage  to  reach 
his  office  daily  some  time  before  his  hour  began. 
He  had  changed  this  from  seven  o'clock  to  five. 


400  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

What  more  natural  than  that  he  should  make  use 
of  that  leisure  period  to  call  at  the  opposite  flat. 

Marguerite's  treatment  of  him  was  not  suffi- 
ciently frank  to  be  discouraging,  neither  was  it 
such  as  to  give  him  hope  that  the  time  had  arrived 
to  urge  his  suit  once  more.  Then,  as  soon  as 
those  calls  of  his  threatened  to  become  too  fre- 
quent, the  girl  chose  that  hour  of  the  afternoon 
to  be  absent  from  home. 

Several  times  Dr.  McKnight  made  vain  at- 
tempts to  see  her,  but  the  afternoon  following  the 
reception,  he  rang  Marguerite's  bell,  and  an  ex- 
pression of  satisfaction  came  into  Lucia's  face  as 
she  opened  the  door.  She  approved  of  Dr.  Mc- 
Knight. 

"She  is  at  home  to-day,"  she  announced,  with 
a  sympathetic  intonation. 

"Lucia  feels  for  me,"  he  declared,  smiling,  as 
he  held  Marguerite's  hand  a  second  in  her  pretty 
parlor;  "you  go  out  so  much.  But  I  thought  I 
should  find  you  to-day.  I  reckoned  on  your  fa- 
tigue." 

"You  were  right,"  returned  the  girl,  seating 
herself.  "I  feel  astonishingly  tired." 

"You  are  not  well,"  returned  the  caller  quickly, 
observing  the  signs  of  the  flushed  face. 

"Oh  yes,  I  am.  I  may  have  taken  a  little 
cold  last  night.  There  was  a  breezy  open  window 
near  me.  The  recent  change  in  the  weather  was 
so  sudden,  too.  Did  you  notice  that  delightful 
smell  of  frost  in  the  air  yesterday?  So  sugges- 


THE   RECEPTION.  401 

tive  of  walking  through  fallen  leaves  in  the  au- 
tumn woods." 

"Is  your  throat  sore?"  asked  Jasper,  continu- 
ing his  scrutiny. 

Marguerite  smiled  and  drew  her  head  up. 
"Rude  man,  you  haven't  answered  my  question ; 
and  supposing  my  throat  is  sore?" 

"Why,  I  am  going  to  give  you  some  medicine." 

"Do,  if  it  will  amuse  you,  but  I  ought  to  warn 
you  that  I  never  take  any."  She  smiled  at  him 
with  bright  eyes. 

He  tried  to  take  her  hand.     She  drew  it  away. 

"Give  me  your  hand,"  he  said  peremptorily; 
and  he  had  always  been  so  deferential  that  she 
obeyed  him  in  sheer  astonishment. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  after  feeling  her  pulse.  "Now 
I  will  just  try  your  temperature." 

"Thank  you,  I  have  no  curiosity  about  it." 

"But  I  have." 

She  gave  him  a  look  of  somewhat  excited  defi- 
ance. "I  have  never  been  ill  in  my  life.  Can't 
you  let  me  have  a  little  feverish  cold  in  peace? 
Really,  Dr.  McKnight,"  more  and  more  hurriedly, 
for  he  was  unscrewing  the  case  of  his  thermometer, 
"it  isn't  any  of  your  business,  you  know." 

His  dark  eyes  flashed  at  her.  "I  beg  your 
pardon.  It  is  more  my  business  than  that  of  any 
one  in  the  world." 

"Fritz  didn't  say  I  needed  to  have  a  doctor." 

"Ah,  then  you  felt  ill  before  Fritz  went  away." 

"No,    not   ill."     She    laughed   nervously.      "I 


402  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

only  had  a  little  headache,  and  —  and  growing 
pains.  I  told  Fritz  I  expected  to  be  as  tall  as 
he  was  by  the  time  he  came  home  again." 

"Let  me  see  if  you  have  fever; "  he  knew  she 
had  a  high  one.  "You  might  as  well  be  relieved 
early  in  your  cold,  as  to  let  it  run  on." 

She  drew  back  into  the  corner  of  the  divan 
where  she  sat.  His  insistent  face  and  the  look 
in  his  eyes  made  her  heart  beat  fast. 

"  If  you  think  I  need  a  doctor,  perhaps  you  will 
be  kind  enough  to  send  me  one,'"  she  said,  rather 
breathlessly. 

He  smiled  at  her.  "You  are  hard  on  me.  I 
do  not  want  any  one  else  to  take  care  of  you." 

"I  wouldn't  have  you  for  anything,"  she  re- 
turned, with  decision.  "I  want  somebody  —  expe- 
rienced; yes,  experienced." 

Jasper  swallowed  his  hurt  as  best  he  could. 
"Dr.  Granbury,  perhaps?"  he  suggested,  begin- 
ning to  put  away  his  thermometer. 

"Yes,  Dr.  Granbury.  He  paid  me  some  very 
nice  compliments  last  night.  I  like  him,"  re- 
turned Marguerite  hastily,  smiling  in  her  relief 
at  so  easily  getting  her  way. 

"I  will  see  if  he  can  come  some  time  this  even- 
ing. I  hope  you  will  soon  be  better,"  said  Dr. 
McKnight,  with  some  stiffness. 

"Oh,  I  shall.  It  is  nothing."  All  the  same, 
when  she  rose  from  her  seat,  she  staggered. 

"You  ought  to  be  in  bed,"  he  said,  holding  her 
hot  hand  close. 


THE   RECEPTION.  403 

She  laughed  into  his  grave  face.  "Ignomini- 
ous, but  true,  I  've  no  doubt.  I  think  I  will  fol- 
low your  advice." 

Jasper  went  downstairs  immediately  and  tele- 
phoned to  Dr.  Granbury.  Driving  swiftly  home 
after  his  office  hour,  he  told  his  aunt  of  Margue- 
rite's condition. 

"I  'm  afraid  it 's  all  up,  aunt  Edna.  There  's 
no  hope,"  he  said  in  closing,  looking  so  white  and 
miserable  that  she  seized  his  arm. 

"No  hope,  and  she  but  just  taken  with  it,  what- 
ever it  is?"  she  returned,  speaking  with  nervous 
energy.  "What  are  you  thinking  of !  " 

"I  wasn't  thinking  of  her  illness.  That  may 
not  amount  to  much,  but  I  've  been  hoping  against 
hope  that  she  cared  for  me  more  than  she  realized ; 
and  to-day  "  —  He  paused. 

"What  has  happened?  Did  she  say  anything 
decisive?  Remember,  she  wasn't  really  herself." 

"She  would  have  turned  to  me,  would  have 
leaned  on  me,  naturally,  if  I  had  been  anything 
to  her.  She  refused  to  let  me  take  care  of  her; 
evidently  preferred  any  other  physician." 

Miss  McKnight  stared  at  the  gloomy,  pale  face, 
and  then  laughed,  —  her  soft,  cheerful  laugh, 
which  lifted  her  nephew's  eyes  to  her  in  amaze- 
ment at  such  untimely  levity. 

"You  good-for-nothing,  to  give  me  such  a  scare! 
Did  you  really  suppose  she  would  let  you  take 
care  of  her?"  The  mirthful  laugh  burst  forth 
again. 


404  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"  Why  not  ?  No  one  else  will  care  for  her  as  I 
should." 

"Oh,  now,  dear,  Dr.  Granbury  knew  consider- 
able about  his  profession  before  you  were  born. 
Blind  boy !  If  Marguerite  had  accepted  your  ser- 
vices, I  should  have  warned  you  that  you  might 
as  well  give  her  up  at  once." 

Jasper  looked  incredulous.  "Do  you  really 
think  that?" 

"I  wouldn't  have  given  a  penny  for  your 
chance.  You  are  very  nice,  Dr.  McKnight,  and 
I  am  partial  to  you ;  but  you  are  a  man,  and  they 
are  all  dense  just  when  they  shouldn't  be."  Her 
nephew's  face  brightened.  "Go  on  and  send 
your  elders  and  betters  to  that  poor  child  at  once. 
I  hope  it  won't  amount  to  anything." 

Jasper  found  Dr.  Granbury  at  home  taking  a 
hasty  supper,  and  not  in  the  best  of  humors. 

"Did  you  get  my  telephone  message?"  asked 
the  young  man. 

"Yes;  just  came  in  and  found  it.  What 's  the 
case?  " 

"Fever,  pains  in  the  limbs,  and  so  on.  I  don't 
know  what  it  is." 

"In  your  neighborhood,  isn't  it?"  asked  Dr. 
Granbury,  contracting  his  bushy  eyebrows. 

"Yes,  in  my  building.     I" 

"What  do  you  bother  me  with  it  for,  then?  " 

"It  is  a  young  lady.  She  doesn't  want  me. 
She  wants  an  older  man.  She  wants  you." 

"Pah!"   growled   the   old   doctor.      "I've   no 


THE   RECEPTION.  405 

time  to  attend  to  these  finicky  notions.  Let  her 
take  you  or  leave  you.  I  'm  not  going  down  to 
Montaigne  to-night,  to  give  a  silly  woman  a  dose 
of  aconite." 

"I  promised  to  get  you,"  said  Jasper  quietly. 
"It  is  Miss  Laird.  You  talked  with  her  last 
evening." 

"Hey?"  Dr.  Granbury  looked  up,  not  relax- 
ing his  scowl,  but  cautiously  interested.  "Not 
the  queenly,  white  girl,  stood  next  to  Chatter- 
box?" 

His  companion  nodded.  "That 's  the  one,"  he 
answered. 

"Aha!"  Dr.  Granbury  gulped  down  the  last 
of  his  tea.  His  frown  cleared.  "Won't  have 
you,  hey? "  he  said,  with  a  self -satisfied  air. 
"Well,  you  '11  be  older  some  day,  my  boy.  Fever 
and  aching  may  mean  so  many  things.  I  guess  I 
can  spare  time  to  see  what 's  the  matter  with  Miss 
Laird.'' 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 
LA  GRIPPE'S  VICTIM. 

IT  proved  that  the  wicked  witch,  La  Grippe, 
prowling  about  in  peaceful  Montaigne,  searching 
most  unseasonably  and  greedily  for  a  victim,  had 
found  Marguerite,  rather  down  in  resisting  power 
from  much  mental  conflict  and  self-analysis,  and 
pounced  upon  her.  The  girl  grew  so  ill  that  very 
evening  that  Fritz  would  not  leave  her.  His 
note  of  explanation  to  Katherine  made  the  latter 
implore  to  be  allowed  to  go  and  nurse  her  friend ; 
but  Mrs.  Ormond  and  Madeline  both  protested 
strenuously.  There  was  no  telling  what  sort  of 
illness  Marguerite's  might  prove  to  be. 

Naturally,  Katherine,  in  much  distress  of  mind, 
betook  herself  directly  after  breakfast  next  morn- 
ing to  her  never-failing  Wise  Woman,  whom  she 
found  as  busy  as  a  bee,  making  plans  to  leave  her 
house,  for  a  few  days  in  the  charge  of  the  servants. 

"Don't  worry,  my  dear,"  said  Miss  McKnight 
cheerily,  while  her  caller  followed  her  about. 
"Marguerite  is  strong  and  elastic.  Dr.  Gran- 
bury  says  she  has  the  Grip.  A  little  while  ago 
everybody  had  either  malaria  or  nervous  prostra- 
tion. Now  it  is  the  Grip.  All  the  same,  it  is 


LA    GRIPPE'S    VICTIM.  407 

very  likely  that  the  girl  has  a  feverish  cold,  and 
will  be  about  in  a  few  days." 

Katherine  smiled.  "You  don't  seem  to  have 
a  proper  reverence  for  doctors'  opinions." 

"Sometimes  I  venture  to  hope  they  are  mis- 
taken. At  all  events,  I  am  going  to  invite  myself 
to  stay  with  Marguerite  a  few  days,  and  see  to 
her  a  little." 

"It  is  such  a  relief  to  my  mind,"  said  Kath- 
erine, with  a  sigh.  "Lucia  isn't  enough,  I  am 
sure." 

She  stayed  with  Miss  McKnight  until  the  latter's 
•  preparations  were  finished ;  then  they  got  into  the 
carriage  together  and  drove  to  the  Ormonds',  where 
Katherine  bade  her  friend  good-by,  earnestly  re- 
questing to  be  allowed  to  be  of  use,  if  possible. 

Miss  McKnight  drove  on  to  the  post-office, 
returning  by  the  railroad  station.  As  she  was 
passing,  she  thought  she  saw  a  familiar  figure  on 
the  platform.  She  ordered  the  driver  to  stop, 
and  looked  again. 

In  an  instant,  she  recognized  the  tall,  shawled 
figure  as  Mrs.  Hodgson,  who,  valise  in  hand,  was 
standing,  looking  about  her  undecidedly.  Catch- 
ing her  eye,  Miss  McKnight  beckoned  to  her. 
The  horses  moved  up  by  the  platform. 

"Why,  I  am  so  surprised  to  see  you,  Mrs. 
Hodgson.  Get  right  in  here  with  me,  won't  you? 
James,  you  take  the  valise  by  you." 

The  new-comer  accepted  the  invitation  grate- 
fully. 


408  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"I  was  just  thinkin'  of  gettin'  a  carriage,"  she 
said. 

Miss  McKnight  took  her  hand  cordially.  "I 
suppose,  of  course,  you  have  come  to  see  Margue- 
rite. I  am  sorry  to  tell  you  she  is  not  well." 

"I  know  it,"  returned  Mrs.  Hodgson,  turning 
her  faded  eyes  on  her  companion.  "Poor  Rita. 
Fritz  telegraphed  for  me  last  night,  and  Pa  told 
me  to  come  right  along.  He  can  just  about  live 
at  the  Berrys',  take  his  meals  there  and  all  that, 
so  I  caught  the  early  train  this  mornin'." 

"Why,  I  was  just  on  my  way  to  nurse  Margue- 
rite myself,"  declared  Miss  McKnight.  "See, • 
here  is  my  satchel." 

Mrs.  Hodgson  smiled.  "The  child's  got  good 
friends,"  she  said.  "I  guess  her  aunt 's  the  one 
to  look  after  her,  though.  They  've  been  lucky, 
those  children  have.  Whenever  I  think  about 
Fritz  gettin'  Kitty  Ormond,  it  makes  my  heart 
swell  right  up.  He  wrote  us  about  it,  and  I 
did  n't  know  but  Pa  'd  scandalize  us  in  the  neigh- 
borhood. He  hurrahed  right  out  on  the  porch, 
and  scampered  'round  the  house  like  a  boy  o' 
twenty.  I  can  most  generally  manage  him;  but 
that  day  I  had  to  just  let  him  carry  on."  Mrs. 
Hodgson  sighed  anxiously.  "I  only  hope  Rita 
ain't  goin'  to  be  taken  now,  to  even  up  things." 

"My  dear  Mrs.  Hodgson!"  Miss  McKnight 
looked  shocked.  "Don't  think  of  such  a  thing. 
If  you  want  me  for  anything,  Lucia,  Marguerite's 
little  maid,  knows  how  to  telephone  me.  I  shall 
hear  from  you  often,  any  way." 


LA    GRIPPE'S    VICTIM.  409 

"Whether  or  no  Marguerite's  illness  was  consid- 
ered serious  from  the  doctor's  standpoint,  there 
was  no  doubt  of  its  seriousness  from  her  own  point 
of  view.  Her  fever  ran  high.  Her  own  nose  and 
eyes  and  mouth  and  tongue  were  spirited  away, 
and  their  places  supplied  by  misfits  which  La 
Grippe  knows  how  to  secure  from  some  grim  pawn- 
shop. The  pains  which  the  witch  induced  were 
so  fantastic  and  versatile  as  to  betray  her  nation- 
ality; but  the  thirst  which  Marguerite  endured 
was  worst  of  all.  Her  throat  was  painful  and 
unmanageable,  and  under  these  circumstances  it 
doubtless  appealed  to  the  witch's  sense  of  humor 
to  hear  the  doctor  state  that  the  victim  could  have 
all  the  water  she  wanted;  but  not  content  with 
interposing  physical  obstacles  to  quenching  the 
devouring  thirst,  La  Grippe  stood  by,  and  into 
each  refreshing  glass  dropped  a  pinch  of  original 
flavoring,  which  altered  every  drop  to  something 
repulsive. 

Water?  There  was  no  water  in  the  world. 
This  pure,  sparkling  liquid  that  they  offered 
Marguerite  under  its  name  was  the  cup  of  Tan- 
talus. She  remembered  well  how  water  used  to 
taste,  and  a  yearning  for  the  joy  of  satisfying 
thirst  colored  all  her  thoughts  in  those  feverish 
days.  She  would  take  her  few,  difficult,  distaste- 
ful drops  through  a  tube,  and  then  lie  back  to 
think  with  feverish  enthusiasm  of  fountains  and 
rivers,  of  marshy,  sedgy  banks  where  rushes  grew, 
and  water-birds  dipped  their  wings. 


410  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"When  I  could  drink,  and  water  was  srood, 

o 

why  didn't  I  drink  more  and  oftener?  Why  did 
I  do  anything  else?"  she  asked  herself,  trying  to 
find  a  cool  spot  on  her  pillow,  and  maddened  by 
the  cool  clink  of  pitcher  and  glass  in  her  aunt's 
hands. 

"Ah,  aunt  Althea,"  she  murmured  one  day, 
"mine  has  been  a  misspent  life." 

"Dear  heart,  don't  fret,"  returned  Mrs.  Hodg- 
son tenderly.  "Most  likely  thinkin'  about  what 
a  worldly  winter  they  've  spent,"  she  reflected, 
shaking  her  head. 

" '  As  the  hart  panteth  after  the  water  brooks, ' ' 
continued   Marguerite   feverishly.      "How  much 
that  means.     How  intense  it  is.     I  never  dreamed 
before  what  strength  lay  in  those  words." 

"She  's  a  pretty  sick  girl,"  said  Mrs.  Hodgson 
to  Fritz  that  night  at  supper,  and  then  she  quoted 
the  evidence  of  Marguerite's  awakened  conscience. 
"I  tell  you,  sickness  is  powerful  to  search  the 
heart,  and  when  Rita  come  out  with  that,  I  knew 
she  was  thinkin'  some  pretty  serious  thoughts." 

Sheldon's  face  was  full  of  concern.  "Rita's  a 
misspent  life?  What  blessed  nonsense,"  he  re- 
turned; "but  what  did  the  doctor  say  to-day? 
Did  he  seem  anxious?" 

"He  didn't  show  it  any.  That  Dr.  McKnight 
acts  kind  o'  queer,  Fritz.  He  's  in  here  most 
every  day  on  some  excuse  or  other.  I  had  to  just 
pointedly  tell  him  that  Rita  'd  taken  against  roses, 
and  then  he  began  to  fetch  other  things;  and  he  's 


LA    GRIPPE'S    VICTIM.  411 

asked  me  questions  by  the  dozen.  I  tell  you," 
Mrs.  Hodgson  spoke  confidentially,  "it  looks  very 
much  to  me  as  if  that  young  feller  wanted  the 
case." 

Sheldon  smiled  at  his  plate.  His  aunt's  put- 
ting amused  him.  Although  he  was  unconscious 

o  o 

of  Miss  McKnight's  strictures  upon  physicians, 
he  knew  that  this  time  Jasper  had  not  forgotten 
the  individual  in  the  case,  and  that  he  did  want 
her  with  all  his  soul. 

"He  is  very  friendly,"  was  all  he  replied. 

After  supper,  Fritz  went,  as  usual,  to  have  his 
evening  visit  with  Marguerite.  Mrs.  Hodgson's 
talk  had  awakened  his  anxiety,  and  it  was  a  relief 
to  find  his  sister's  greeting  no  different  from  what 
it  had  been  during  the  last  few  days. 

He  sat  down  by  the  bedside,  close  to  the  familiar 
little  table  with  its  bowl  of  crushed  ice  and  its 
glasses. 

Eagerly,  Marguerite  slipped  her  burning  hands 
into  his.  "I  'm  glad  your  hands  are  so  big,  Fritz, 
for  they  are  always  so  cool,"  she  said,  in  the  diffi- 
cult, breaking  voice  which  La  Grippe  had  sub- 
stituted for  her  own.  "I  've  been  thinking  while 
you  were  at  tea,  what  I  would  like  best  of  any- 
thing to  do.  I  would  like  to  lie  back  in  a  river 
among  the  sedges  near  the  bank,  and  draw  the 
long,  wet  grasses  through  my  hands.  The  first 
time  I  did  it,  the  grasses  would  scorch  and  wither 
under  my  touch;  the  second  time,  they  would  dry 
as  my  hands  passed  up  over  them ;  but  the  third 


412  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

time,  they  would  stay  wet  and  cool,  and  I  should 
be  wet  and  cool,  through  and  through." 

"Are  you  so  hot,  poor  little  Rita?" 

"I  have  been  deciding,  too,  what  creature  best 
enjoys  drinking." 

"I  guess  it's  ducks,  ain't  it,  dearie?"  sug- 
gested Mrs.  Hodgson,  who  was  standing  at  the 
foot  of  the  bed. 

"No,  it's  horses.  Tell  me,  Fritz,  how  they 
do  it.  Talk  to  me  about  it." 

So  Fritz,  holding  her  hands,  fell  into  her  mood, 
and  told  her,  as  if  she  had  been  a  little  child,  how 
the  horses,  hot  and  tired,  came  eagerly  to  the 
mossy  trough  where  a  spring  welled  up,  and 
plunging  their  velvet  noses  into  the  refreshing 
water,  drank  and  drank  great  draughts. 

"I  can  make  a  noise  almost  like  it  with  a  big 
sponge  in  a  washbowl,"  interrupted  Marguerite, 
watching  him  with  a  beatific  expression.  "  I  tried 
to-day ;  and  when  I  get  well,  I  'm  not  going  to 
live  as  I  have  done."  Mrs.  Hodgson's  head  here 
dropped  to  one  side,  but  straightened  up  slowly  in 
her  surprise  at  what  followed.  "I  am  going  to 
divide  my  time  into  three  parts.  You  know  these 
shallow,  swift  rivers  that  flow  over  little  rocks  and 
yellow  sand?" 

Fritz,  smiling  into  the  flushed  face,  assented. 

"One  third  of  my  life  I  am  going  to  spend 
lying  in  such  a  river  with  only  my  face  out;  one 
third  I  shall  sit  among  cat-tails  and  sedges  watch- 
ing the  water-birds;  and  the  remaining  time  I 


LA    GRIPPE'S    VICTIM.  413 

shall  spend  drinking  at  a  fountain.  I  have  the 
fountain  all  planned.  There  are  two  Naiads  with 
rushes  growing  and  clinging  around  them,  and 
one  holds  a  pitcher  up  high,  laughing  down  at  the 
other,  who  tries  to  reach  it  and  can't.  I  was  going 
to  have  her  hold  a  shell  at  first,  but  such  a  narrow 
bit  of  water  came  from  the  shell  I  couldn't  bear 
it;  so  I  changed  that  and  used  a  pitcher  that  a 
broad  stream  could  pour  from.  Whoever  builds 
me  that  fountain  I  will  love  forever;  for  I  am 
going  to  stand  under  it  with  a  goblet "  — 

"Hush,  Rita,  you  mustn't  talk  so  much,  dear," 
said  Mrs.  Hodgson.  "She  's  as  crazy  as  a  loon," 
she  thought.  "Fritz,  it  won't  do,"  she  added 
aloud.  "He '11  go  away,  Rita,  if  you  don't  stop 
talking." 

Marguerite  sighed  uneasily  on  her  pillow,  but 
meekly  fell  silent.  She  was  quite  sane  now;  but 
night  was  coming  on  with  its  fantastic  hallucina- 
tions, and  she  knew  that  quiet  was  best. 

But  the  day  of  La  Grippe's  triumphs  and  tor- 
ments came  to  an  end.  Marguerite  could  sympa- 
thize with  the  Irishman,  who  described  the  witch's 
machinations  as  "a  sickness  that  ye  have  six 
weeks  afther  ye  get  well;"  yet  her  strength  and 
fine  constitution,  aided  by  wise  care  and  nursing, 
caused  her  convalescence  to  be  swifter  than  is 
usual. 

It  was  a  season  she  ever  afterward  remembered 
as  a  time  of  especial  sweetness.  The  extra  affec- 
tion shown  her  by  Fritz  as  she  began  to  be  up 


414  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

and  about  again,  the  devotion  of  Katherine  and 
Miss  McKnight,  constituted  an  atmosphere  of 
love,  through  which  she  felt  with  a  secret  thrill 
the  pressure  of  that  other  and  different  love,  which 
evidenced  itself  in  every  form  but  speech. 

She  no  longer  "took  against  roses,"  and  her 
bower  was  fragrant  of  them.  Each  day  she  drove 
out  with  Miss  McKnight,  and  although  she  fre- 
quently protested  against  resting  so  deep  in  the 
lap  of  luxury,  the  delightful  conspiracy  to  spoil 
her  continued. 

Mrs.  Ormond  came  to  call  upon  her,  and  to 
express  polite  regret  that  Marguerite's  assistance 
at  her  reception  should  have  contributed  to  bring 
about  her  illness. 

"I  wouldn't  know  the  place,"  said  that  lady  to 
her  daughters  upon  her  return.  She  had  been 
considerably  surprised  and  impressed  by  the  evi- 
dences of  taste  and  even  luxury  in  the  little  home, 
which  she  last  remembered  furnished  with  the 
milliner's  rather  meagre  and  utilitarian  surround- 
ings. "Those  were  gorgeous  roses,"  she  added. 
"I  think  Fritz  is  inclined  to  be  extravagant, 
Katherine." 

"Fritz  didn't  do  it.  He  is  too  sensible  to  send 
coals  to  Newcastle."  The  girl  smiled. 

"Then  I  suppose  it  was  your  Wise  Woman," 
remarked  Mrs.  Ormond  tartly.  "It  is  a  wonder 
you  aren't  jealous,  my  dear.  Your  old  place 
seems  to  be  entirely  usurped." 

"And  the  Wise  Woman  did  n't  do  it,"  returned 


LA    GRIPPE'S    VICTIM.  415 

Katherine.  "Her  nephew  prefers  to  attend  to 
that  duty." 

"He  will  do  anything  for  Edna,"  observed  Mrs. 
Ormond,  thinking  resentfully  of  a  time  when  Miss 
McKnight  might  have  exerted  her  influence  and 
would  not. 

"Not  so  much  as  he  will  do  for  Marguerite," 
said  Katherine. 

Her  mother  stared,  but  Madeline  exclaimed, 
her  little  face  alert  with  curiosity  and  interest. 

"Do  you  really  believe,  Katherine  Ormond, 
that  he  is  serious?" 

"Oh,  he  is  serious  enough.  You  won't  doubt 
it  the  next  time  you  see  them  together." 

Mrs.  Ormond,  who  had  been  removing  her  call- 
ing costume,  sat  down,  her  bonnet  untied  and  the 
strings  floating;  "Has  Marguerite  Laird  got 
Jasper?  "  she  asked,  in  a  desperate  voice. 

"Evidently  she  has,"  answered  Katherine,  equa- 
bly; "but  he  hasn't  won  her  yet." 

Mrs.  Ormond 's  face  brightened,  and  she  clutched 
at  the  straw.  She  was  not  even  yet  prepared 
to  be  called  upon  to  consider  seeing  Marguerite, 
of  all  people,  in  that  coveted  place.  She  sat  a 
long  time  in  her  chair,  her  bodice  unhooked  and 
her  bonnet  awry,  thinking.  Should  that  strange 
girl  remain  .cold,  at  least  Mrs.  Ormond  would  be 
spared  seeing  her  the  mistress  of  that  mansion  in 
the  park.  On  the  other  hand,  if  she  should  yield, 
as  no  doubt  she  would,  — her  coldness  in  this  case 
was  probably  only  meant  to  draw  Jasper  on,  — 


416  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

there  would  be  an  advantage  in  Katherine's  sister- 
in-law  becoming  Mrs.  McKnight,  since  it  was  out 
of  the  question  that  her  sister  should  ever  fill  that 
place. 

Mrs.  Ormond  finally  rose,  and  snatched  off  her 
bonnet  with  startling  energy.  She  was  consumed 
with  longing  to  confront  her  dear  Jasper,  all  fet- 
ters of  conventionality  removed,  and  to  indulge 
in  the  gratifying  process  of  boxing  his  ears. 

That  young  man,  meantime,  was  undergoing  in 
these  days  a  season  of  suspense  still  more  sweet 
and  bitter  in  its  alternations  than  that  which 
preceded  his  lady's  illness.  By  heroic  effort,  he 
forced  his  treatment  of  Marguerite  to  be  equable 
and  friendly  on  the  few  occasions  of  their  meeting. 
Her  temporary  weakness  gave  her  a  new,  gentle 
dependence  of  manner  which  tempted  him  almost 
beyond  his  strength;  but  Miss  McKnight  stood 
guard  over  her.  "Let  the  girl  get  well,"  she  said 
to  him  warningly. 

"She  loves  you,  any  way,"  he  returned.  In 
his  optimistic  moments,  he  told  himself  that  Mar- 
guerite would  not  accept  these  attentions  from  his 
aunt,  the  daily  drives,  the  dainty  food,  and  so  on, 
if  she  meant  still  to  cut  off  the  intimacy  between 
herself  and  the  Wise  Woman ;  but  in  his  moments 
of  gloom,  he  saw  these  neighborly  attentions  in  a 
very  different  light.  Mrs.  Hodgson  had  gone 
back  to  Pokonet,  and  Miss  McKnight  had  assumed 
supervision  of  the  convalescent  and  her  home.  In 
what  bad  taste  it  would  be  for  Marguerite  to 
repulse  her. 


LA    GRIPPE'S    VICTIM.  417 

Miss  McKnight  was  far  from  being  as  hard- 
hearted and  obtuse  concerning  her  nephew's  state 
of  mind  as  he  believed  her.  She  had  a  tender 
appreciation  of  his  suspense,  and  smiled  upon  the 
reckless  floral  offerings  which  were  the  only  method 
of  expression  he  ventured  upon.  Her  shrewd  in- 
sight perceived  hope  for  him,  too,  and  sometimes 
she  let  fall  oracular  remarks,  intended  to  convey 
comfort  to  him  in  the  state  of  pale  and  silent  dig- 
nity to  which  he  at  times  withdrew. 

"Your  father  used  to  say  that  your  mother's 
great  charm  to  him  lay  in  the  fact  that  he  had  to 
shake  the  tree  to  get  her." 

"You  won't  let  me  shake  the  tree,"  returned 
Jasper  curtly.  "You  will  hardly  let  me  see  it. 
Either  you  or  Fritz  or  Katherine  or  Gilbert,  — 
somebody  is  always  under  foot." 

His  aunt  repressed  a  desire  to  laugh.  "In- 
deed?" she  returned  contritely.  "Then  I  am 
going  to  do  something  nice  for  you.  I  will  bring 
Marguerite  to  lunch  with  us  a  week  from  to-day. 
By  that  time  she  will  be  strong  enough,  I  am  sure." 

Jasper  would  not  betray  his  pleasure  at  this. 
He  was  more  than  half  jealous  just  now  of  his 
aunt;  but  he  counted  off  the  following  days,  as 
they  passed,  with  eager  impatience.  He  was  un- 
usually busy  this  fall,  but  he  registered  a  vow  not 
to  leave  home  at  the  call  of  the  President  himself 
on  that  particular  Wednesday.  It  must  be  an 
eventful  day.  He  would  see  Marguerite  alone, 
and  he  should  discover  where  he  stood. 


418  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

He  had  found  consolation  in  Fritz  the  past 
month.  The  latter,  full  of  fellow-feeling,  had 
reported  to  his  eager  friend  Marguerite's  condi- 
tion, her  every  word  and  look,  with  all  the  fidelity 
of  which  his  memory  was  capable.  He  had  long 
ago  learned  Jasper's  hopes,  and  given  them  his 
sanction. 

When  the  anticipated  Wednesday  dawned,  the 
sun  rose  in  Indian  summer  glory.  Frost  and  cold 
seemed  an  illusion,  though  their  traces  were  seen 
in  brilliant  dashes  that  gleamed  amid  the  verdure 
of  the  park,  as  Marguerite  drove  into  it. 

To  Miss  McKnight's  relief,  Jasper  had  not 
insisted  upon  going  to  call  for  the  guest.  There 
was  not  supposed  to  be  a  host  in  evidence  on  this 
occasion;  but  Marguerite,  rolling  along  in  lonely 
state  in  the  Victoria,  thought  of  him,  nevertheless. 
It  was  his  carriage  in  which  she  was  luxuriously 
seated ;  it  was  his  home  that  she  was  approaching. 
These  were  his  grounds  where  the  woodbine  flung 
its  threads  of  vivid  color  around  the  evergreens, 
and  the  yellow  and  scarlet  maples  glowed  warm. 

"The  day  was  made  for  you,  my  dear,"  said 
Miss  McKnight,  coming  out  on  the  piazza  to  meet 
her  as  the  horses  stopped  before  the  house. 

"I  know.  So  many  beautiful  things  are  given 
me,"  answered  the  girl,  feeling  blessed  and  hum- 
ble as  she  stood  there  with  her  hostess,  and  looked 
down,  down,  through  the  vista  of  autumnal  foli- 
age, to  the  town  below. 

Jasper  did  not  appear  until  lunch  time,  and 


LA    GRIPPE'S    VICTIM.  419 

Marguerite  supposed  that  his  duties  would  call  him 
away  immediately  after  the  meal;  but  when  they 
left  the  table,  he  showed  no  signs  of  departure. 

He  knew  that  it  was  his  rose  that  Marguerite 
wore  in  the  bosom  of  her  dress.  Did  that  mean 
anything?  Miss  McKnight,  as  she  led  the  way 
to  a  cozy,  gauze-inclosed  nook  of  the  piazza,  felt 
for  them  both.  Their  ease  she  saw  to  be  assumed. 
There  was  not  a  subject  they  could  touch  upon, 
but  led  to  some  suggestions  that  heightened  their 
constraint.  Jasper's  pent-up  feelings  would  not 
permit  him  to  be  talkative,  and  Marguerite  was 
unnaturally  glib. 

"Poor  children,  they  are  afraid  of  each  other, 
and  more  afraid  that  I  shall  discover  it,"  thought 
Miss  McKnight.  "Well,  I  will  rid  them  of  one 
embarrassment. ' ' 

She  stifled  a  well-managed  but  obvious  yawn. 
"Take  that  chair,  Marguerite,  I  will  warrant  its 
comfort.  This  place  is  sacred  to  laziness." 

Jasper  regarded  his  aunt  with  evident  and  som- 
bre impatience.  Was  she  going  to  pin  Margue- 
rite down  to  a  prosy  three-cornered  talk  in  this 
cushioned  corner  ? 

"Are  you  addicted  to  naps?"  continued  Miss 
McKnight,  addressing  her  guest.  "I  dare  say 
you  feel  the  need  of  a  little  rest  in  these  days." 

"No,  thank  you,  I  don't;  but  if  you  are  accus- 
tomed to  a  daily  rest,  please  don't  mind  me.  I 
dare  say  it  would  do  me  good  to  stop  talking 
awhile.  I  shall  be  perfectly  happy,  reading." 


420  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Well,  I  do  like  to  lie  down  a  little  while," 
returned  Miss  McKnight  apologetically,  scarcely 
able  to  refrain  from  smiling  at  the  manner  in 
which  the  anxious  sternness  in  her  nephew's  face 
melted  away  at  her  words.  "If  you  two  children 
can  amuse  yourselves  together  for  half  an  hour  " 

"Oh,  I  utterly  refuse  to  detain  Dr.  McKnight 
a  moment,"  interposed  Marguerite,  hastily  turn- 
ing toward  him.  "Please  go  on  just  the  same  as 
if  I  were  not  here." 

"Indeed?"  he  remarked,  meeting  her  eyes. 
"You  are  very  considerate;  but  I  have  a  holiday. 
Come.  It  is  plain  that  aunt  Edna  can  scarcely 
keep  awake." 

"Don't  tire  her,  Jasper,"  said  Miss  McKnight 
warningly. 

"Wise  Woman,  don't  be  so  conceited."  He 
held  open  a  screen  door  for  the  guest  to  pass  out 
upon  the  lawn,  and  looked  back  at  his  aunt.  "  I 
won't  admit  that  you  know  how  to  take  better 
care  of  Marguerite  than  I  do." 

"God  bless  the  child,  and  lead  her  to  decide 
wisely,"  thought  Miss  McKnight,  watching  the 
two  figures  move  over  the  turf.  She  felt  that  the 
time  for  decision  had  come.  A  half-humorous, 
half -tender  smile  touched  the  corners  of  her  lips. 
"I  feel  as  if  I  ought  to 'throw  an  old  shoe  after 
them,"  she  murmured;  then  the  pair  disappeared 
around  the  corner  of  the  house,  and  she  sighed 
and  lay  back  on  her  wicker  couch. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 
IN   WOODROW   PARK. 

"AT  last!  "  said  Jasper. 

He  was  scarcely  conscious  of  having  spoken 
aloud,  until  his  companion  darted  at  him  a  brief, 
half -timid  look  of  surprise. 

"It  seems  an  eternity  to  me  since  those  Sep- 
tember days  before  you  were  taken  ill,"  he  added 
explanatorily. 

"And  to  me,  I  assure  you,"  she  answered. 

"  Since  you  recovered,  you  have  been  contin- 
ually hedged  about.  I  have  been  waiting  a  long 
time,  and  I  consider  rather  patiently,  for  an  op- 
portunity to  see  you  alone." 

He  paused,  regarding  her,  and  Marguerite  did 
not  answer  at  once.  She  had  never  shown  em- 
barrassment with  him  before,  and  he  hoped  the 
red  flag  in  her  cheek  was  a  favorable  signal;  but 
he  was  far  from  certain  that  it  did  not  indicate 
distress. 

"I  had  never  been  ill  before,"  said  the  girl. 
"I  suppose  that  is  why  the  experience  seems  to 
have  made  the  world  over  for  me,  just  for  a  little 
while.  I  do  not  seem  to  myself  quite  the  same 
person." 


422  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Is  it  a  better  world?" 

"It  is  more  beautiful,  more  desirable  than  ever, 
yet  I  feel  idle  and  irresponsible  as  yet  —  as  if  I 
had  not  fully  waked  up."  The  speaker  smiled. 
"This  weather  aids  and  abets  me  in  my  laziness. 
With  the  passing  of  Indian  summer,  I  promise 
myself  to  stop  dreaming." 

"I  dream,  too,  Marguerite;  but  I  am  always 
waking  myself  up,  on  principle." 

"How  attached  you  must  be  to  this  place,"  said 
the  girl,  with  swift  irrelevance. 

"I  am;  or  I  was  before  I  knew  it  worked 
against  me.  What  do  you  think  of  yourself  for 
setting  a  man  at  variance  with  his  home  and  those 
he  ought  to  love  best  ?  "  Jasper  ventured  upon  the 
jest  with  a  beating  heart.  He  shrank  from  end- 
ing the  suspense  which,  nevertheless,  had  grown 
unbearable.  If  Marguerite  persisted  in  her  rejec- 
tion, he  must  accept  it  as  final.  She  must  know 
herself  by  this  time.  To-day  must  decide ;  yet  to 
lose  the  hope  of  her  would  be  to  lose  the  zest  out 
of  life. 

She  appeared  to  consider  his  raillery  unworthy 
an  answer,  and  continued  to  glance  about  her  at 
the  well-kept  grounds,  where  the  effect  of  rusticity 
had  been  carefully  preserved. 

They  were  at  the  back  of  the  house  now,  and 
Marguerite  turned  toward  a  wooded  tract,  where 
the  autumn  colors  blazed  in  the  soft,  hazy  air. 

"That  looks  like  real  country,"  she  said.  "I 
should  like  to  spend  hours  in  those  woods,  alone, 
watching  the  birds." 


IN    WOODROW  PARK.  423 

"  So  you  can,  any  time  but  to-day.  Give  me  to- 
day." Jasper  looked  at  her  with  a  smile.  "But 
I  thought  the  only  birds  that  interested  you  "were 
wagtails  and  marsh-wrens,  kingfishers,  and  all 
that  sort  of  fowl." 

The  girl  glanced  at  him  questioningly  a  mo- 
ment ;  then  turned  away.  "  That  was  too  bad  of 
Fritz,"  she  said,  laughing. 

She  did  not  see  Jasper  make  a  signal;  but  im- 
mediately a  man  leading  two  horses  emerged  from 
the  barn,  and  walked  toward  a  wide,  grass-grown 
trough. 

"The  beautiful  creatures!"  said  Marguerite 
gladly,  and  moved  impulsively  toward  the  animals. 

"They  do  seem  to  take  solid  satisfaction  out  of 
the  flowing  bowl,"  remarked  Jasper,  as  the  eager 
heads  bent  to  the  clear  water  which  the  man 
pumped  down. 

Marguerite  cast  a  suspicious  glance  at  her  com- 
panion, but  his  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  dilating 
nostrils  of  the  thirsty  creatures. 

"What  a  beautiful  coat,"  she  said,  smoothing 
the  glossy  side  of  the  horse  next  her. 

"Yes,  they  are  a  fine  pair;  but  I  hope  you  will 
like  them  wisely,  and  not  too  well." 

"What  harm  could  I  do  them?  " 

"None.     I  should  be  the  sufferer." 

Marguerite  blushed  hotly,  as  if  the  groom  could 
understand. 

"  I  am  glad  they  happened  to  want  to  drink  just 
now,"  she  said  hastily. 


424  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

"Shall  we  explore  the  woods  a  little?"  sug- 
gested Jasper,  when  the  horses  lifted  their  heads, 
satisfied. 

Marguerite  assented.  Life  seemed  full  to  her, 
as  she  walked  slowly  with  him  along  the  grassy 
incline  toward  the  shadow  of  the  woods.  None  of 
those  questions  that  had  vexed  her  in  the  careful, 
responsible  days,  so  little  while  passed,  disturbed 
her  now.  The  clear-cut,  pale  face  of  the  man 
beside  her  filled  all  her  sight,  whether  she  glanced 
at  him  or  no.  The  jealousies  and  criticisms  of 
those  who  coveted  him  touched  her  no  longer. 
All  the  fragrant  air  seemed  hushed  and  attentive 
as  they  passed.  It  was  the  brief,  enchanted  sea- 
son when  the  whole  world  becomes  subservient 
and  sympathetic  to  the  emotions  of  two  souls. 

The  wondrous  stillness  of  the  woods  seemed 
eloquent  to  her  as  they  passed  within.  The  sun- 
light pierced  through  ardent  colors  amid  the  green 
leafage.  A  little  brook,  made  full  by  fall  rains, 
murmured  mysteriously  at  the  bottom  of  a  ravine. 
They  descended  its  bank,  and  sat  down  on  a 
mossy  log. 

"You  didn't  tell  me  there  was  a  brook!"  said 
Marguerite,  sighing  blissfully.  "That  makes  it 
perfect." 

"It  is  putting  its  best  foot  forward  in  honor  of 
you,  too,"  returned  Jasper.  "It  isn't  always  so 
full ;  but  see  these  grasses  and  reeds.  If  you  still 
meditate  the  same  occupations  in  life  you  planned 
a  little  while  ago,  you  could  scarcely  find  a  better 
place." 


IN    WOODROW  PARK.  425 

Marguerite  smiled.  "I  like  it  now  almost  as 
much  as  I  thought  I  did  then;  but  Fritz  had  no 
right  to  betray  my  confidence,  and  let  you  laugh 
at  me,  too." 

"I  am  a  lover  of  water  as  well  as  you.  Let 
me  show  you  the  design  of  a  fountain  I  am  about 
ordering."  Jasper  took  from  his  pocket  a  paper, 
and  unfolded  it. 

Spreading  the  handsome  drawing  before  Mar- 
guerite's view,  he  remained  silent.  The  girl,  lean- 
ing her  chin  in  her  hand,  regarded  the  picture 
with  interest  a  second  before  she  realized  what  it 
was;  but  in  an  instant  she  recognized  her  Naiads, 
sportively  struggling  among  their  clinging  rushes 
for  the  possession  of  a  pitcher,  whose  stream  had 
once  seemed  to  her  craving  as  the  water  of  life. 

"Dr.  McKnight!"  she  ejaculated  in  her  sur- 
prise, even  the  tips  of  her  ears  reddening. 

He  rested  his  arm  on  his  knee  and  looked  into 
her  face.  "Do  you  remember  what  you  said  you 
would  do  for  him  who  would  build  this  fountain?  " 

"No,"  answered  the  girl,  gazing  fascinated  at 
the  elaboration  of  her  feverish  dream. 

"You  said  you  would  love  him  forever,"  said 
Jasper  steadily,  as  pale  as  the  paper  before  them. 

Marguerite  turned  her  head  slowly  toward  him. 
"Then  you  have  told  —  then  Fritz  wants  "  — 

"For  once  it  doesn't  matter  what  Fritz  wants," 
interrupted  Jasper,  his  voice  sounding  hard  in  his 
self -repression.  "This  concerns  only  you  and 
me.  I  have  been  a  coward,  Marguerite.  I  am 


426  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

a  coward  still.  I  dread  what  you  will  say  to  me, 
because  it  will  be  the  decisive  word.  There  are 
women  who  yield  to  importunity ;  but  you  are  not 
one  of  them.  Never  mind  that  plaything,"  for 
Marguerite  had  looked  mechanically  back  at  the 
picture.  "It  was  a  pleasure  to  me  to  plan  it, 
because  it  connected  me  with  your  thought,  at  a 
time  when  I  could  get  no  nearer;  but  now  we  are 
together.  Marguerite !  "  His  voice  stopped. 

The  girl  looked  again  into  the  white,  controlled 
face,  and  under  her  gentle  eyes  its  tension  less- 
ened. 

"I  have  been  so  anxious  not  to  deceive  you," 
she  said  softly. 

"That  would  be  impossible." 

"Yes,  I  should  not  deceive  you  unless  I  deceived 
myself  first;  but  that  was  what  I  feared.  There 
was  a  glamour  about  you,  as  I  told  you  at  Poko- 
net.  I  never  could  be  sure  that  I  considered  you, 
purely  —  you,  alone;  but  since  my  illness,  since 
I  am  well  again,  I " 

"Yes?"  said  Jasper  eagerly,  as  she  paused. 

"I  am  so  happy,"  said  Marguerite,  coloring, 
and  speaking  the  words  slowly,  —  "  so  happy  that 
it  is  unreasonable,  unless  " 

"Unless  what,  my  darling?"  His  arms  were 
around  her,  and  he  was  trembling  under  the  revul- 
sion of  feeling. 

She  yielded  to  him  with  a  look  that  blessed. 

"Unless  it  is  —  you,  alone,"  she  breathed;  and 
the  wood  was  as  a  wood  in  the  garden  of  Eden, 


IN    WOODROW  PARK.  427 

for  heaven's  own  happiness  glorified  that  nook 
where  the  little  brook  flowed  jubilantly,  scattering 
its  diamonds  over  ferns  and  grasses,  and  singing 
a  song  of  thanksgiving. 

The  Wise  Woman  waited  long  for  their  return, 
but  at  last  she  saw  them  coming  slowly  up  the 
velvety  slope,  the  afternoon  sunshine  turning  Mar- 
guerite's hair  to  gold  as  the  dark  head  of  her  boy 
bent  above  it. 

"Whatever  is,  is  right,"  she  thought;  for  a 
little  stricture  suddenly  tightened  her  heart-strings. 
Was  it  apprehension  lest  Jasper  had  been  denied, 
or  a  moment's  jealous  struggle  in  giving  him  to 
another?  She  did  not  know;  but  when  the  two 
came  nearer,  and  she  met  Jasper's  warm,  triumph- 
ant gaze,  and  the  unutterable  expression  of  Mar- 
guerite's clear  eyes,  pure  gladness  shone  in  her 
welcoming  face  as  she  met  them  with  outstretched 
hands. 

"Thank  God,  dear  children,"  she  said  tenderly, 
"you  have  come  back  —  together!  " 

In  the  following  June,  Mrs.  Jasper  McKnight 
gave  a  garden  party  in  honor  of  her  brother  and 
his  bride,  who  had  just  returned  from  their  wed- 
ding trip.  The  weather  was  favorable,  and  the 
occasion  festive. 

Mrs.  Ormond  sat  with  her  friend  Mrs.  Ailing- 
ton  under  an  awning,  and  cast  approving  glances 
toward  Madeline,  who,  in  dainty  summer  costume 
and  the  most  picturesque  of  large  hats,  was  bring- 


428  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

ing  the  full  battery  of  her  charms  to  bear  upon 
Mr.  Ben  Allington. 

"How  swiftly  events  move  sometimes,"  said 
Mrs.  Allington.  It  seems  as  if  we  had  scarcely 
recovered  from  the  surprise  of  Dr.  McKnight's 
engagement  when  here  we  are,  his  wife's  guests, 
and  it  all  seems  as  natural  as  possible." 

"Yes,"  returned  Mrs.  Ormond  blandly.  "Mar- 
guerite is  a  charming  woman;  a  little  eccentric 
and  capricious  in  her  nature,  perhaps,  —  so  unlike 
our  dear  Fritz  in  that,  but  still  charming  in  her 
own  way.  Of  course,  Jasper  has  always  been 
precisely  like  a  brother  to  my  children;  so,"  with 
a  significant  little  smile,  "perhaps  we  were  not 
so  surprised  as  others  when  his  engagement  was 
announced." 

"It  does  seem  such  a  happy  circumstance  that 
Miss  McKnight  and  the  young  wife  are  so  in  har- 
mony," said  Mrs.  Allington.  "Miss  McKnight 
does  not  seem  to  have  lost  anything,  and  she  cer- 
tainly behaves  as  if  she  had  gained  a  daughter." 

"Yes,"  assented  Mrs.  Ormond.  "We  all  have 
our  little  weaknesses,  and  I  fancy  Edna  thinks 
more  than  most  people  of  family  and  descent. 
You  know  Fritz  and  Marguerite  quite  pride  them- 
selves on  their  good  blood,  and  after  all,  it  does 
tell,  don't  you  know.  I  hardly  wonder  Edna 
feels  so.  How  charming  Frances  looks  to-day," 
added  Mrs.  Ormond  suavely,  looking  across  the 
lawn  to  where  Gilbert  was  shielding  Miss  Alling- 
ton with  her  white  parasol.  "Oh,  these  young 


IN    WOODROW  PARK.  429 

people !  How  they  charm  us,  and  what  an  anxiety 
they  are!"  Mrs.  Ormond's  interests  were  at 
present  chiefly  centred,  and,  so  far  as  Madeline 
was  concerned,  with  good  reason,  upon  the  Alliiig- 
ton  family.  Mr.  Ben  Allington  always  gazed  and 
pulled  his  mustache  and  listened,  smiling  as  if  he 
were  bewitched,  to  Miss  Ormond's  airy  chatter. 

"Your  heart  must  be  at  rest  about  Katherine," 
returned  Mrs.  Allington.  "I  have  stared  at  her, 
unconscionably,  this  afternoon.  There  is  some- 
thing beautiful  in  her  expression.  I  think  the 
sight  of  a  real  love-match  like  that  is  good  for 
us  all." 

"The  dear  children  are  certainly  very  happy," 
returned  Mrs.  Ormond,  and  Miss  McKnight,  ap- 
proaching from  behind  and  overhearing,  could  not 
restrain  a  smile  at  the  modestly  virtuous  tone. 

"Which  children  are  you  talking  about ?"  she 
asked  gayly,  drawing  near.  "Yours  or  mine?" 

"They  are  all  four  yours,  and  all  four  mine, 
Edna,"  replied  Mrs.  Ormond  graciously. 

"Ah,  thank  you.  How  do  you  like  Jasper's 
latest  pet,  our  new  fountain?  " 

"I  was  remarking  to  Mrs.  Ormond  a  few  min- 
utes ago  how  charming  and  unique  the  design  is," 
returned  Mrs.  Allington,  her  eyes  again  seeking 
the  marble  figures. 

"Jasper's  own  idea,  I  suppose,"  said  Mrs. 
Ormond. 

"No,  Marguerite's,"  answered  Miss  McKnight. 
As  she  spoke,  Marguerite  and  her  husband  ap- 


430  THE    WISE    WOMAN. 

preached  the  basin  into  which  the  water  bubbled 
from  among  the  reeds,  and  flowed  from  the  up- 
lifted pitcher  with  a  cooling  sound. 

Marguerite,  in  her  white  gown,  her  coppery 
hair  glinting,  extended  a  crystal  goblet  to  catch 
the  plashing  stream.  Jasper  held  back  the  crisp 
folds  of  her  dress,  and  both  were  laughing. 

Fritz  and  Katherine  passed  near  the  group 
under  the  awning,  on  their  way  to  greet  some 
guests. 

"Does  Marguerite  prefer  that  to  frappe?  " 
asked  Mrs.  Ormond.  "What  is  she  doing?" 

Fritz  smiled  slowly.  "Fulfilling  a  vow,"  he 
answered. 

The  orchestra  on  the  lawn  played  a  serenade. 
The  sun  shone,  the  fountain  sparkled  as  it 
splashed,  and  Marguerite  and  Jasper,  looking 
into  one  another's  eyes,  made  of  the  goblet  a 
loving-cup. 


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UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000126266     6 


